Under the Influence of Djinn
by kasey8473
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.  
Notes: Starts at the very beginning of S6. Also, please be patient for chapters.

* * *

It was with the sensation of drowning in panic that Dean Winchester woke.

He ripped the iv from his arm the second he registered it there and attempted to get up from the cot he was on, falling hard to the grimy floor. His heartbeat was fast, thumping almost painfully in his chest and his mouth was dry. He rolled to his hands and knees, dry heaving. His stomach clenched, temples pounded, and he tried to jerk back from the person who knelt beside him and put a gentle hand on his back.

"Relax. Take some slow breaths and don't make any sudden moves." It was a woman's voice.

He didn't take that advice, shoving his body into the cot and taking a swing at her, blinking and shaking his head as her features came into focus. Dark hair, dark eyes. Gwen Campbell.

"I killed you," he gasped. "You're dead. You're all dead." He coughed, struggling to hold down the nausea. His stomach felt like it was trying to crawl up his throat.

Her brows rose and she smiled. "I've had men want to kill me before, but none who've actually claimed to. You know who I am?"

"Gwen. Gwen Campbell."

"You recognize me?" Her smile faded as he nodded. "They were watching us, too. They knew a lot more about us than we thought they did."

"They?" Images flashed in his mind, things that didn't make any sense. Sam smiling a chilling smile, Castiel lying to his face and Dean knowing he was lying yet not wanting to believe it. Terrible things happening that didn't make much sense.

"You were a tough case, Dean. We weren't sure you were going to make it."

"Who's we? They?" The room was similar to the one he remembered from his first meeting with the Campbell family, only the cot, with the pristine white sheets, was a new detail, as was the iv stand and bags. He saw his bag by the wall and that tote bag that Lisa used to carry things. "What are you doing to me?"

Gwen didn't move from where she knelt. "Trying to wake your ass up. Ben and Lisa woke up pretty fast, but the two Djinn were torturing you to death with nightmares. They admitted it. Well," she inclined her head a fraction, "the one did before we killed her. You were their target. You and Sam." She gestured at the cot. "Be a good patient and get back in bed, okay? You're dehydrated and a little malnourished. They only gave you enough to make you linger. Eventually, you would have starved. You need the iv because I doubt you can hold food down yet."

"Liar. I woke up from that. Sam -"

"No, Dean. You didn't wake up. Sam's been trying to get you to wake up for days. You've been in a coma-like state. I was about ready to push for hospital time. We've been talking to you and it's good to know Christian was right. He thought you'd wake up soon."

"He's a dick."

"Some former doctors _can_ be."

Former doctor? That wasn't right. It didn't mesh with what he remembered about the man. "How do I know your face if my memories aren't real? I've never seen you in that case."

"The Djinn, Dean. They were watching all of us a long while before they struck. They admitted to really thinking out their story for you to make it real." She shifted her weight a fraction. "Make you a deal?"

He tried to swallow, throat aching. "What kind of deal?"

"You get in bed and I go get Sam and Lisa. You can talk to them."

Was she real? Was she right? Were the things he thought had happened all a Djinn dream? How was it possible to have so much happen in a dream?

But the Djinn.

With two of them working him over, she might not be lying. They might have had the power to do that.

He gave a cautious nod. "Okay. No more iv."

"Only if you can't keep food or liquids down," she countered with a slight side tilt of her head. "Your call in the end, though."

Dean weighed the risks. If he was still under, it could be the Djinn trying to get him to cooperate. On the other hand, he knew the damage they did. He might honestly need that iv. "We'll see."

"Fair enough." Her dark eyed gaze slid over him. "Like some help back onto the cot?"

"I can do it." He fumbled and fell, refusing her assistance. Finally, he made it and laid back, weak and shaky.

"Sam has repeatedly mentioned how stubborn you can be," she commented.

"Hold up your end," he bit out at her.

Gwen nodded, got up from the floor, and left the room.

* * *

She'd made a mistake in taking Dean Winchester in.

Lisa bit her lip and hated that she kept having that thought while Dean was unconscious and might not live. She hated the feeling of regret in letting herself and Ben get attached to him when she'd known in the back of her mind that something could come gunning for Dean.

But she'd thought it wouldn't happen as the days had become weeks and months with no incidents. Dean had been vigilant, paranoid even, yet nothing had come. She'd let herself relax and become used to Dean there while trying to broach the combined subjects of Sam, Dean's grief, and those things she still didn't know about his past. After a year, she'd been no closer to knowing how to talk to him about those then when he'd shown up on her doorstep.

Every tiny step she'd made to that end had been slapped down, Dean shutting himself away. She'd stopped trying and had recently decided to have the 'our future' talk with him. Lisa had planned on gently pointing out that they weren't working and they both knew it. The problem with actually having that talk, however, was that Dean perceived himself as having nowhere to go.

He'd put the Impala away like it hurt to see it, had refused to answer that phone he'd had, and had spent hours at a time staring into space, his cheeks wet with tears she didn't think he'd realized he was shedding. Lisa had talked briefly in the first weeks with a man named Bobby, answering his questions about Dean's state of mind. She'd tried to return the calls from a man named Castiel, only to find a perpetually full voicemail and finally that number had stopped working altogether.

Dean had pretended he didn't know there were messages, that he didn't hear her tell him the two had called. Or maybe he really hadn't heard her. He checked out mentally sometimes, in his own little world in his head.

She'd hated to see Dean shut out the people who knew him best. She knew those two knew him well, for he'd said their names as well as Sam's in his nightmares. He could have gone to them. Bobby had made it clear that he'd welcome Dean if Dean chose to come to him.

Grief was a funny thing and Dean's grief was overpowering him.

Yet he didn't have to go on in it. Sam was alive. Sam was here. He'd been alive and suffering a full blown case of amnesia for the better part of a year, having woken in a field with no memory. The Campbell family, what there were of them, had come across him and helped him. Apparently, they were some sort of distant relatives, all raised in the life and all had tried to leave it before being drawn back in through circumstances.

So, Dean had a place to go, a _person_ to go to besides Bobby and Castiel. He had his brother back and that, Lisa knew, was the thing that completed him. The attachment he had to Sam was more than she'd ever been able to fully understand, though she realized a lot of it had to do with their upbringing.

Lisa took a sip of hot coffee that burned her tongue and felt like a complete insensitive bitch for having these thoughts and having had that huge sense of relief in seeing Sam. She almost cried.

"Hey." Sam approached and sat in the chair across from her, stretching out a hand to touch her arm. "Are you okay?"

"No, not really to be honest." She'd found that she rather liked Sam once they'd sat and talked. He'd been trying to make this easier for her and Ben and help her understand some things about Dean.

His nod was slow. "I know. It's a lot to take in."

"Not just this." She gestured around the room. Gwen was in with Dean, watching over him and taking care of him while Christian and Mark were playing cards with Ben, keeping him occupied and calm. Christian was good with Ben and apparently good with kids period. Adults…. Not so much. He'd been a pediatric physician. She'd also learned that his wife and unborn son had died in some sort of attack a couple years earlier, something Sam had said was because of the Apocalypse. Christian and his wife had been trying to have a baby for years and he'd lost both. His grief had propelled him to return to the life and meet up with first Gwen, then Mark.

Her glance slid to Mark. He was a quiet man, as marked by sorrow and tragedy as Dean was. She hadn't heard his story, only Christian and Gwen's. Out of those three, Gwen had been the one to return to hunting first, after a demon had targeted her friends and roommate and nearly killed her. She was still pursuing the demon. Sam had told Lisa that there was a good chance Gwen might never find it; that their dad had spent their lives hunting for the one that had killed their mother. That demon might be Gwen's white whale.

"I'm sorry. I'll be gone in a few days. I only wanted to make sure he was okay and let him know -"

"Don't apologize for that. If you hadn't come we'd all be dead. I meant…. I'm not okay because," she took a deep breath, "I was trying to figure out how to break up with Dean all this past month."

"You were going to break up with him?" He seemed stunned by that.

With a nod, Lisa sat back and crossed her arms. "You can't have a healthy relationship when one person isn't present and Dean…. He hasn't been present. I get his grief for you, I do. He raised you more than your dad did. I kept thinking all year how I'd be if I survived Ben and I couldn't even comprehend that loss. My heart would break to lose him. I'd had thoughts of maybe calling your friend Bobby to come get Dean or at least be here for him when I told him, but…." She bit her lower lip a moment before continuing. "I didn't know how to break through to him, Sam. I still don't. He pushes me away. Every time I try to get him to open up, he pulls in further to himself."

"It'll be different now. You'll see. He won't be in mourning because I'm here. I'm back. I'll call, email, come by if it's okay with you. It'll change. I know it will."

"Maybe. But now I really understand the danger of being a hunter's girlfriend. See, nothing happened all these months until this. Nothing came for him until now. We did move once because he was afraid there was something, but there wasn't then. I didn't understand before…. I am not the sort of person who can live this life. I know it. The danger, the fear. The past few days have been horrible. How do you do it?" She uncrossed her arms and reached for her coffee. The mug was still warm. "I have to protect my son and the life you two have won't guarantee his safety. I can't pick up and move every time Dean sees danger. I can't live that. I don't want to live that. I don't want Ben to live that. I want stability for me and for him."

He studied her a moment, his gaze kind and gentle even as he said, "Leaving Dean won't guarantee safety either."

The pronouncement sent a chill along her back. "The first time we had a brush with this life, it just happened. One of those things that happens all over, if I'm understanding it right. It wasn't anything we did that caused it, but this…. This was a direct effect of being in Dean's life. Those Djinn came for him and took us because we were there. I can handle walking into a situation that can happen to anyone, but staying and knowing this could happen again and Ben and I could die just because we're in Dean's life? In your life now too?" She let out a breath through pursed lips and shook her head. "I can't."

"Something could still come for you knowing it would hurt Dean even if you aren't in his life right then. You know how Dean is. Once he lets a person in emotionally, he'll protect him if he can. You two can be used against him. You might not be any safer leaving than if you stayed."

"I can't stay. I can't. I'm not strong like that." Visions of this happening over and over filled her mind and she felt the tears rising. Lisa blinked them back.

"You _are_ a strong woman, Lisa. Stronger than you think. It's one thing that impressed Dean about you the last time you met.""

"I'm not that strong. Maybe if I'd grown up in it I could handle it, but I can't. I have to take Ben and leave. I want him to grown up, Sam, not die because something wants to get back at Dean."

"It's a possibility. I won't lie to you. We've both pissed off a lot of things over the years and that's not counting the things our dad pissed off that could come for us, too."

"If you're trying to convince me to stay, that's not the right thing to say." She half smiled at him.

He returned the smile. "You know yourself, Lisa. If you're sure you can't live this life…."

"I am." She watched the play of emotions on his face. There was indecision, sadness, then resignation.

"Dean will survive a breakup. He won't like it, but he'll survive it." Sam sighed. "We'll give you two a crash course in protection before you go, give you some contact numbers. Make sure you do use the symbols we'll teach you. It's important you take certain precautions now. I mean it, Lisa. You have to use everything we give you."

"I understand." She wouldn't be moving around everywhere all the time, but she'd still be doing those things Dean had insisted on. The salt, the devil's traps, the holy water, and more. It was her life now too, but she'd stay right there, not getting in it further, if she could. She took a sip of her now cool coffee and broached the next question that popped in her mind. "Should we have new identities?"

The question seemed to surprise him almost as much as when she'd said she was planning on breaking up with Dean. "You're willing to do that?"

"If it'll help. I can tell my sister we're going into witness protection."

"Will she believe it?"

"I think so. She questioned a couple times why we'd moved and why Dean acted the way he did on occasion, but I didn't elaborate. She wondered if something was going on. She'll believe it. I'll make her believe it." She'd hate to leave her family, but protecting Ben was a priority. Maybe some day she could let them know she was okay. Until then…. She'd learn to live with the loneliness. "I know I can make friends anywhere, make a living. Well…. If I have the right documents." She shrugged a shoulder. "See? I've learned a thing or two from Dean on disappearing."

"I can put you in touch with a guy if that's what you really want."

She glanced towards the room where Dean was. "I think it'd be best."

Ben might not understand and there'd be adjustments to make, yet if Lisa could start over like this and protect her son, she'd do it. She'd do anything to protect her boy and hoped that Dean would understand that. He should. He'd do anything to protect his loved ones.

Sam reached for a pad of paper and pen on the other end of the table and began to draw and write. "For awhile, you'll want to keep this with you. Study the pages. Memorize them. Make Ben do it too. These will help keep you alive. Also, you'll need to become familiar with a gun. Keep one or several if you like. I'll make a list."

Lisa drank her cold coffee and watched Sam prepare the manual for her new life. It wouldn't be easy to change everything. It'd hurt like hell.

She'd never forget Dean Winchester. She knew she'd treasure the memories of him and hoped that, when he was no longer hurt by her leaving, he'd remember her fondly as well.

He'd said he loved that she was a fierce, protective mom.

She hoped he hadn't been lying.

Please, God, let him understand!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Two  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Dean had every right to distrust her and feel confused. Gwen Campbell kept reminding herself of that as she walked down the hall.

The scene they'd walked into had been terrible. The Djinn had teamed up on Dean, Lisa, and Ben. Dean had been caught first before he'd even left for his shift at work, Lisa when she'd come home from work, and Ben two days later upon returning from a friend's house. Dean had almost been too far gone to save.

She recalled the horror, pain, fear, and panic on Sam's face as he'd unhooked Dean from the iv the Djinn had on him. It was a good thing they'd come to check on Dean and let him know Sam was alive or all three of them would be dead now.

Sometimes she wondered if it was fate that she, Mark, and Christian had stumbled on Sam or if it had really been a coincidence that they'd found him and that they were the last of his mother's family. Supposedly the last, anyway. They'd found a couple of possible connections, but without doing a real genealogical search, it was assumption based on shared names in the family tree. It could be nothing, however. Campbell was a common name, after all.

Honestly, she doubted the coincidence idea. In her experience, there was little real coincidence. Higher beings planned pretty much everything and she wouldn't be surprised to know they'd been supposed to find each other and him.

Opening one door, she peered in the room. "Sam? Lisa? Dean's awake."

The two appeared to be intent on some papers, heads bent over them. At her call, they looked up.

"We'll go together," Sam said.

Lisa shook her head. "No. You go first. He'll be glad you're alive and he'll want to see you."

"We agreed -"

Gwen interrupted them. "Hey, you two. He wants both of you. You might want to come before he decides this is all still the Djinn's work and makes a run for it."

She followed them down the hall and made sure the door was closed for their talk before heading back to the main room. There, she joined Mark, Christian, and Ben at the table.

"Did you say Dean's awake," Ben asked, glancing up from his cards.

"Just now, yes."

"Can I see him?"

"Might not be a good idea yet, sport." Christian laid his cards face down and crossed his arms on the edge of the table. "He, Sam, and your mom need to go over a few things first."

"Like what?"

"Like what happens from here."

Ben sat back and tossed his cards on the table. His snort held a ton of pure teenage attitude. "Like do we move again? Do we keep moving? Do I lose all my friends? _Again_? Because Dean always wanted to keep moving."

"Hey." Gwen slapped her hand flat on the table. "You want to stop that attitude? You three almost died. I think some sort of precautions are in order and yes, that might mean moving again."

He looked away. "I'm losing everything, Gwen." Ben slouched in the chair. "I'm even losing Dean. No way he'll stay now. I _know_ him. His brother is back and…. It's all going to change!"

Gwen could read between the lines easily enough. Ben had come to think of Dean like a father and she thought he was right. Dean was going to end up leaving his life. Maybe it'd be immediate or maybe it'd take awhile, but it would happen. From what Sam had told her about Dean, he might just leave thinking that his absence could save them. "Change is a constant. There's always change, Ben. It's life."

"You're not losing your physical life," Mark pointed out in a gentle tone. "Be glad for that. You have that, but to keep it, you may need to make some necessary adjustments. Roll with the changes that come. People who don't do that?" He raised his brows to emphasize his next words. "They do die and they die bloody. Especially when they've brushed this way of living." Getting up from the table, he left the room.

Exactly part of Mark's story. People he'd loved hadn't accepted the changes that had needed to be made. Out of her, Christian, and Mark, Mark's story was the bloodiest. Mark had actually held his toddler son as the boy lay dying and seen the light of life slip from his eyes. He'd watched his girlfriend commit suicide after realizing she'd been possessed by a demon. And more. There was so much more pain he'd had in such a short time.

Gwen had thought she'd had it bad until she'd met Christian, then Mark, and finally Sam. Talking to Sam once his memory had returned had brought many moments of introspection on their various plights. It seemed their side of the family was cursed for tragedy. Campbell blood meant pain, suffering, and hardship.

"I don't like change." Ben's whisper was faint.

Christian gathered the cards. "A lot of people don't. Gwen's right, though. You can't escape it." He slipped a rubber band about the deck. "You can go in later. How about you and I go out and get some grub while we wait? I could do with something rib sticking."

She watched them go and wondered what changes were in store for all of them.

* * *

Lisa was a surprise to Sam these past days.

She wasn't really the woman Dean had once told him about. Nor was she fully the woman Dean had visited before he'd gone to hell. She was somewhere between the two, changed by her circumstances.

He hadn't expected her to choose to leave and choose to change identities. If anything, he supposed he'd expected her to stick it out with Dean and try to work it out. Hell, he'd expected it'd go the way he'd told her, with Dean staying with her while Sam continued to hunt with their cousins and stopped by every now and then to visit. Her choice surprised him and he tried to figure out if Dean was going to be surprised by it. As much grief as Dean had been in over him, Sam didn't want him to have to grieve for her and Ben as well.

He followed Lisa into the room. The fact that Dean eyed him with suspicion hurt, yet he could understand why.

Lisa went to the cot and knelt beside it. "You're okay?"

It was somewhat telling, in Sam's opinion, that Lisa didn't try to touch Dean and he, in return, didn't reach out to her.

"I'm alive," Dean responded, his glance sliding to her and quickly back to Sam. "You want to tell me how you're alive, Sam? I saw you go in."

Taking a deep breath, he sat in the straight back chair. "I woke up in a field with no memory of who I was or what I was. I wandered, drifted around awhile. A few things came back, but not much. Vague things. Confusing things. A couple guys tried to kill me. I learned my real name then. Learned what they thought of me. They called me a killer, demon lover, evil incarnate. Said I'd loosed Satan on the world, which was news to me because I had no memory of that. They had quite a few descriptions for me."

"You know them?"

The memory of being captured and held prisoner wasn't one he wanted to go back to, but he thought it'd help Dean to hear it. "They said I did. Said it was a shame I wouldn't stay dead even after they shot me and my brother. First clue I _had_ a brother."

"They said they shot us?"

He nodded. "They did. Roy and Walt."

Dean's shoulders relaxed visibly. "Those dicks."

"Yeah, well, they won't be hunting much of anything for a long time." He'd gotten loose and put the hurt on them. "They're probably still trying to heal. I, uh, wasn't too happy to have been tied up and beaten."

"Good. Go on."

He thought a moment. "A couple months after that I stumbled onto a job Gwen, Christian, and Mark were working. They brought me in to their group, I don't know why. Gwen maybe. She's a pretty good judge of character."

"Is she? You sure about that?" He sounded like he greatly doubted that assessment.

"Yeah, I am. Why?"

Dean shook his head. "No reason. What about Samuel?"

"Samuel?" What was Dean talking about? Sam shook his head. "I don't know. Samuel who?"

"Campbell. Where is he?"

"You mean our grandfather? Dead, as far as I know. You know otherwise?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Huh. How did the Djinn know so much about us?"

"They'd been studying us. They spent time studying us, listening. This wasn't a spur of the moment plan for them. They'd spent years gathering as much intel on us as they could from any source they could find. We killed their dad. They were like dad after mom died. Hunting us. Finding out every weakness they could use." It floored him how they could have been so oblivious to the Djinn there.

"We didn't see them coming," he said in a slow question.

"No, we didn't and…." Sam licked his lips, crossing his arms and shaking his head once more. "After everything dad taught us and we've experienced, shouldn't we have seen it? Shouldn't we have at least thought of that?"

"You were a little distracted by the apocalypse," Lisa said, "and other matters. Maybe they'd hoped Lucifer would do you in and they wouldn't have to expend the effort."

"So they watched me and prepared to finish me off." Dean shifted position on the cot, pausing and studying Lisa before returning his attention to Sam. "Did they find you?" An expectant gleam in his eyes.

"Yeah. I was recognized by another Djinn who let them know I was alive. The cousins and I -"

"Gwen, Christian, and Mark."

Sam blinked. "Yeah, them. Did the Djinn put them in your dream?"

"You were saying? You and they what?"

"We hunted a Djinn, but couldn't find it. That was the one who talked to the Djinn siblings. Anyway, the female Djinn was pretty forthcoming about their plans for us and the steps they'd gone to. Proud of it and defiant about it. They knew a lot. About us, about Castiel, about Crowley even. We killed her."

As the conversation went on, it was obvious Dean was trying to trip him up on details. He couldn't quite figure out why, though it most likely had to do with whatever dream the siblings had given him. Some of the things he asked made no sense to Sam.

There was the rap of knuckles on the door and Gwen poked her head in. "Dinner is here. Might be good for Dean to try eating. Christian suggested it."

The conversation ended.

* * *

The story Sam gave for himself was plausible. It actually wouldn't surprise Dean if Sam really had been separated from Lucifer as he'd fallen into the pit and the trauma of having had Lucifer in his body had temporarily wiped his memory. There was a precedent for God whisking them away from places in a blink, like when Lucifer's cage had opened. At least, they'd decided it must have been God.

But the part about the Djinn spending years watching them and plotting revenge was harder to swallow. Still, he knew how dad had reacted to losing mom. He'd been driven in his grief and that emotion hadn't lessened over the years. Was it too far-fetched to believe the Djinn could have created an elaborate plot out of revenge?

When he really considered the question, then no. They were monsters and if men could go crazy in their grief (himself included), then why couldn't the monsters? Why couldn't they have created a dream for him that had taken everything he'd known and turned it upside down? Why couldn't they have bided their time and coldly considered what would cause him the most pain? It made sense that they'd try to break him through those dreams they gave and each element had been a twisted knife inside him, his worst fears. Sam not being Sam, Dean failing as a father, Castiel….

He swallowed hard and picked at the food on his plate while everyone else finished eating.

The longer the Djinn siblings taken, the more elaborate the dream, the better their sense of justice in his suffering.

It really did bring home the danger he'd been to Lisa and Ben. Who else had been watching them? Were demons and other creatures standing by waiting in line for their turn at trying to pick him off? He'd been reckless in going to them. Reckless and stupid.

Dean shoved the plate aside. While the food was good, and he was glad he seemed to be able to keep it down, his appetite had shrunk. He'd managed to finish only half. "We should call Cas."

He wanted to see Castiel and know that he was still the nerdy, somewhat naïve angel Dean had befriended. Seeing him unchanged would do a lot to dispel the lingering wisps of Djinn dreams and right his equilibrium.

Sam sighed. "I tried. As soon as I got my memory back I tried. I used every method I could think of, even the standard summoning. Nothing. He's incommunicado."

Fear tickled at the back of his neck.

"He was heading back to heaven the last I saw. Planned on changing some things."

"Maybe he's busy with that. Maybe he's stuck in the middle of bureaucratic changes and can't hear anything but angels arguing."

Or maybe he'd made a deal with Crowley to defeat Raphael and was….

Stop it, Dean told himself. It was the Djinn. You were under the influence.

Lisa approached the table and sat beside Dean, placing a slice of pie in front of him. "Here. Your favorite. Try and eat a little of it."

"I don't know where Cas is," Sam said. "All I know is I haven't been able to get him."

He saw the worry in Lisa's eyes and, despite not wanting the pie, Dean picked up the fork. Had it been Christian or Ben who'd chosen to get the pie? Ben knew which he liked, yet Sam had been talking to the Campbell cousins for weeks. If they were cousins at all. He thought a good place to start with them was to figure out if there was definitely a connection and what it was.

Lisa smiled a little when he took a bite. "Do you mean the Cas who tried to call months ago? Castiel? He left several messages on your phone, but I was never able to get through when I called back. Full voicemail, then none at all. I did tell you."

"He called me?" His stomach seemed to drop out. He had a vague remembrance of Lisa holding out his phone to him, a pleading and very scared look on her face, and no memory of what she'd said or his response. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone right then.

"He did. As did a man named Bobby."

Dropping the fork, he laid his head in his hands.

Lisa laid a gentle hand on his back, a comforting gesture. "It's okay, Dean. You were in a bad way those first couple months, barely talking to me or Ben. I'm sure your friends understand."

"It's not okay. I…." He'd done his best to make sure Castiel knew that friends always answered when called and here he'd dropped the ball when both Cas and Bobby had called.

"It is. He's a friend, right? He knows you. He was there and knew what happened to Sam. He knew Sam went in the pit and that you'd be in deep mourning."

Of course Castiel did, but how did Lisa know? He'd never divulged that information to her. Dean cast a questioning glance at Sam.

"She had questions, Dean. I answered them. She needed to know."

Her hand lifted from his back. "My point is that he's probably giving you time like Bobby is."

With a shake of his head, he pushed his chair back and got up. "No. He'd answer Sam, too. He would." Dean's tone was blunt and hard. "I may have been the one he pulled from hell, but he and Sam had an understanding too. They had a friendship. They did. The _do_. No way would Cas ignore him unless he had no choice." The Djinn-given dream rose up in his mind. In it, Castiel hadn't listened to Sam calling for him. "Something is wrong. He wouldn't not answer."

"Give it a try," Sam suggested.

While Dean gave it his best shot, it was with some relief that Castiel didn't answer him either. The relief wasn't because he didn't answer, but rather that Dean's gut feeling was validated.

Something was very wrong.

Castiel was in trouble.

* * *

Raphael circled Castiel.

Castiel could feel the contempt radiating from the archangel and prayed for this to just be over. He was so very weary. His ideas of changes for heaven had been met with anger and resistance from Raphael, who'd promptly taken control as soon as it was clear that Michael was gone. Castiel had tried to fight Raphael and ended up running as each of his supporters was murdered. Angels fell in line to avoid death and Castiel had found himself alone and finally captured. He'd thought then that Raphael would kill him, but no. Raphael had chosen to torture him for his insolence in daring to go against Raphael's wishes, not even bothering to try reprogramming him. He'd weathered several earth months of torture that was non-stop.

But the last round of torture had broken him. He knew it and so did Raphael. He was done, finished. The only sort of fight left inside him was too weak to last. It was superficial and fading fast. There'd be no more outright rebellion and no more attempts to rally against Raphael's leadership of Heaven. Let it all be finished. Let him die and finally have peace. Castiel had no dignity left, no desire for life of any kind. He was ready for death.

"I can be merciful, Castiel."

He couldn't help the snort that left his lips. "You don't know the meaning of that word," he gasped. His voice was rasping, throat raw from screaming. For these months, he'd been trapped in Jimmy's body. Thankfully, Jimmy was long gone and didn't have to know what had happened.

"Oh, but I do." Raphael crouched down and tipped his chin up with a finger. The smile Castiel saw was chilling. "I am merciful and, while you've been a thorn in my side for centuries, I'm not going to kill you."

No. That he could be brought so close to peace and nothingness and have it pulled from his grasp made him tremble. Castiel tried not to let his fear at that show. Mercy would be to kill him. All of these months he'd held on to the fact that there'd be an end to his suffering and it was being denied him.

"Does that frighten you, Castiel? Why? You like humans. In fact, you like them so much, I'm going to let you be one of them forever. A plain, stinking human. It frankly baffles me why you care for them so much. We could have paradise right now, but no, you had to side with the Winchester brothers and intervene." Cold eyes assessed him. "You're close to being one of them already. Pitiful excuse for an angel." Standing, Raphael smiled again. "I'm merciful and here's the depth of my mercy. Are you ready for this? Pay attention and realize I don't have to do this for you. Are you listening?"

He was prodded with a kick to his ribs that toppled him over, then kicked again until he cried out a, "yes!" With painful movements, he pushed back onto his knees and looked up at his tormentor.

"Not only will you live a human life, you can pick anyone in human heaven to be your companion. Anyone at all. You'll need a guide for human things. I accept that and give that to you."

He had the knowledge he'd gotten from Dean, but there was still a lot he didn't know the practical applications for. Raphael's proposal was wrong and unjust for whoever was chosen. What's dead, as Dean had once told him, should stay dead. Castiel blanked his mind, yet could feel Raphael rooting about in it, plucking at thoughts and those things and people Castiel tried not to show.

"See? That is merciful, is it not? To give you human life and a companion to guide you? You should thank me. You like those monkeys, Castiel. You're going to get to spend forever with them. You should bow down before me. Kissing my feet would be a good start."

Summoning up every last ounce of rebellion that remained inside him, he spat at Raphael's feet, the only thing he could do.

Castiel received another kick, this time to his back.

Raphael's features hardened with rage. "Get the woman and throw them both out of heaven. I want him gone from my presence and my domain."

In moments, Castiel felt himself falling.

Then, darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Three  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

The angel in charge of casting Castiel from heaven crossed her arms and perused the motel room. It was no heaven by any stretch of imagination, yet she supposed he'd be at home there since it was rather like those places the Winchester brothers frequented.

As soon as Castiel was laid out and his companion set in a chair, she made a flicking motion towards heaven with a finger. "Go," she ordered her two helpers. When they seemed inclined to argue, she raised a brow and used a sterner tone that had them scrambling to leave. "I said go."

She waited long enough to make sure she was truly alone and no agents of heaven or hell were near before removing a knife from her jacket. The angel moved to the bedside and stretched out a hand, fingers touching Castiel's forehead, then cheek and chin.

Funny, how being as close to human as he could get didn't change his presence. She would have thought it had. She would have thought he'd seem like a human and he didn't. He simply wasn't human, no matter how much Raphael had wished it upon him. Taking his powers didn't make him human, it made him an angel without powers. He was still recognizable as Castiel and would be as such to any who'd known him. What made him him was present.

Lowering her face close to his, she studied him. The features were Jimmy Novak's, the presence Castiel. And yet…. She peered closer, nose nearly touching his skin. His being was taking ownership of the body. She could see it on a cellular level, that knitting together more firmly of the two, as if he was being transformed. Curious. Would he actually end up human when this was completed? Was that what this meant? His battery had been drained before by his own action, but this was different. This was something that she didn't recall ever having been done before. There could well be side effects of this sort.

She moved back a fraction, returning her hand to his forehead. "In time," she whispered. "Sleep well, Castiel." Placing the knife in his coat pocket, she turned her attention to his companion.

The woman was…sufficient. Sufficient only was what Raphael wanted for Castiel. Too bad that one wasn't aware of the hidden strengths of the chosen companion. The angel hadn't bothered to enlighten Raphael. After all, he hadn't asked. Why should she volunteer information that wasn't asked for? It was Raphael's problem if that bit him on the ass later.

Her, she reminded herself. Raphael had a female vessel now.

Touching her fingers to the woman's forehead, she sent her into a deeper sleep.

Castiel did have allies and while they were hardly the conventional sort, it was somehow fitting that they weren't the expected ones. He and the Winchesters were certainly brothers beneath it all that way.

She straightened. "In time," she repeated and returned to heaven. There were pieces to maneuver before all was ready.

* * *

They were having the talk. Or were going to anyway, if Lisa would ever get around to the topic. Dean knew it was coming. What else would it be after both she and Ben nearly died because of him?

"Spit it out, Lisa." He could see the hesitancy in her eyes and added, "come on," in a harsher tone than he'd intended. Really, he just wanted to get it over with.

She flinched. "Fine. I didn't want to do this now, but…." She crossed her arms, looking very uncomfortable. "We're not working, Dean. You and I know it, Ben knows it. Hell, I think even your brother and cousins can see it. We're too different from the people we were back then and whatever hot spark we had just isn't there anymore. Hasn't been. We're wasting each other's time."

The bitch of it was that he couldn't even argue with that assessment. He'd half wanted to leave the past month himself. The thing that had stopped him was the question of where to go. The only places he'd had were related to hunting and without Sam he hadn't wanted to go back. He'd known they weren't working and hated that fact, but had to concede that maybe he wasn't ideal as a boyfriend at present. Grief, depression, nightmares, and a ton of other issues she couldn't begin to understand didn't make him the most desirable of packages. Sam returning didn't change half of that and Dean couldn't be the sort of man who enjoyed the everyday normal life, no matter how much he wished he was that man.

The typical nine-to-five job bored him, keeping the schedule Lisa and Ben liked bored him, and settling into neighborhood life made him jittery. There was a hollowness to normal life that he'd never understood was present because his daydreams hadn't had that hollowness. His daydreams had been far better than the reality. The only times he'd felt alive at all had been when he was trying to find ways to bust Sam out of the Cage, which he now knew hadn't been needed, or when he'd been patrolling the neighborhood looking for anything out of the ordinary.

A part of him could acknowledge that he appeared to have been born for the hunting life. The rest of him would need to work up to coming to terms with that.

Lisa had been patient, but even her patience had an end and this was it. He ran a hand through his hair. "I know."

"You know?"

"I get it. I'm not exactly boyfriend material."

"No, I…." She blew out a breath through pursed lips. "Not exactly what I'm saying. You're misunderstanding me. Dean, you're a hunter. I'm not. I don't want that life and I don't want it for Ben either. Our normal apple pie life, as you called it, bores you to tears. I know that. I see it."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment of that fact. "I tried."

"I know you did, but if it's not you deep down, it'll never be you, not really. Trying to force yourself into it for the rest of your life will only make you resent it and eventually…you'll resent me. I don't want that. You need to live the life that puts a spring in your step and the only time I've really seen you completely focused and in the moment was when you were looking for ways to help Sam."

"You knew?" He hadn't realized she'd known what he was working on.

Her smile was wry. "Kind of hard to miss with some of those weird titles. Not to mention your patrols around the block that you tried to tell me were health walks. You're not into that health stuff." Pulling out a chair, she sat, her smile fading. "I did know. Dean, you deserve a woman committed to your lifestyle one hundred percent, willing to live that life with you. That's not me and I hate to admit it, because you're one of the best men I know. I'd love to be that woman for you and I can't be. I'm sorry and that's on me, you know. It's my failure."

She was trying to make this better for him, but he didn't see how she'd failed him. She'd been patient and kind, while he was the dumb s.o.b. who'd brought danger into her house and nearly gotten her and Ben killed. "Lisa -"

"I want you to listen to me, Dean Winchester. I mean, really listen because you _are_ boyfriend material…for that woman who wants the hunter life."

He should be feeling hurt and upset, but instead, Dean felt the first weights of the past year lift from him. The lightness made him uncomfortable. He wanted to mourn their relationship and all he was feeling was relief. "You got a plan? For you and Ben?"

She glanced down at the floor. "Yes, but I'm not telling you what it is."

"Why not?"

She set a hand on his and squeezed it. "Because this is really goodbye. You won't find us again."

"Does Sam know your plan?"

"He gave us the tools to protect ourselves and some names to help us." Leaning over, she placed a kiss beside his mouth. "We'll miss you."

Within an hour, Lisa and Ben were gone and Dean was left alone with Sam and three people he supposed he'd have to get to know.

* * *

After moving to a motel with actual amenities rather than the abandoned house with practically nothing, Gwen sat on the bed in her room working on the genealogical research Dean required to make him feel better about them all. He hadn't said in so many words that he wanted it, but it was clear to her that he needed some kind of real tie before he'd even think about trusting them.

Rather than argue, she'd gotten right on it because, quite frankly, she liked him. She wanted to be a person he trusted and if confirming they were family helped that come about, she'd do this.

There was a knock on the half-open door between the rooms. Sam appeared. "Hey."

"Hi." She looked up at him. He'd been restless since Lisa and Ben had left, as if he thought Dean was blaming him in some way for it when, as far as she could tell, Dean appeared relieved. "Dean any better?"

"Well enough to fight Christian on taking his temperature and exchange some snarky words with him."

"So, yeah in other words?"

He laughed. "You've got him pegged. He's okay, but it'll be awhile before he's himself again."

"Not surprising. He's been through a lot. I'd be more surprised if he wasn't floundering a little."

He dragged the chair over and propped a foot on the bed. "You finding anything?"

"Sam, this'll take some time. I mean, to give Dean the clear connections he's wanting, I have to make sure I have birth and death dates, marriage dates, maybe even the cemeteries so we can all go trooping out to make sure there're actual graves."

He crossed his arms. "You really do know Dean already."

"I'll admit I'm curious myself. I've already done plain searches on all the names we remember and I'm checking out those genealogical sites next. Here." She handed him a few papers.

"What's this?"

"What I have so far. What we've already told him. If you think it's enough, I guess I'll stop…." She didn't want to however. Gwen wanted to see how they connected and where those connections were. Their speculation based on common names wasn't going to cut it. She wanted the hard truth.

"No, go on."

She finished signing up for the first one and, ten minutes later, glanced at Sam. "Are you going to sit and watch me work all day?"

With a blink, he put his foot down and sat up. "Um…no. Sorry."

"It's okay. I think someone already did a search. Pretty much everything I need is right here."

"The Djinn?"

"Maybe." It was all neat and tidy, practically tied up in a bow and ready for her to print out. Finding the information seemed far too easy and she bit her lip, then shrugged. "I'll print all this out." Dean's obvious paranoia must be wearing off on her because why would anyone do that? What purpose was there in making it clear they were family?

Gwen set that thought aside and got a report of sorts ready for Dean.

* * *

Over the months of Jo Harvelle's death, it had never occurred to her that she might find herself alive again in a shoddy motel room with a comatose angel. She hadn't minded being dead. Death was peaceful and all the tears of life were gone. She'd been able to focus on the happy memories and recalled Ash finding her and teaching her how to manipulate her piece of heaven. She remembered trying to find her mother and understanding that heaven was really another level of existence for humans. Her body may be ashes (literally), but her soul lived on.

She'd been…conscious of where she was after Ash had found her and accepted her state. So to find herself suddenly returned to life? Sucked on so many levels.

Her body was a heavy weight, a thing her soul needed to get used to having again. Getting up from the chair she'd come to consciousness in, she went to the mirror on one wall, stumbling a little. Her first sight of herself brought a disgusted curl to her upper lip. The least whoever had raised her could have done was clean her up a little. She was a mess. Blood stained her clothes and skin and she thought it even matted her hair. Her clothes were torn and there was an anemic paleness to her skin that made her eyes seem darker.

Hunger gnawed at her stomach, thirst accompanying it. Stepping in to the bathroom, she ran tap water into the cleanest of the two glasses on the counter and drank it. Over and over, she filled the glass and drank, until she didn't feel parched anymore. The hunger could wait.

Jo gripped the edge of the counter and studied her reflection again. She looked like a shadow of her former self, a faded portrait in sepia tones. Even her lips appeared to have no real color to them. They were chapped and rough. She reached for a washcloth and cleaned the worst of the blood from her face, chest, arms, and hands, then returned to the main room.

Castiel was flat on his back, his mouth open and a snore issuing forth. Who knew angels snored? "Castiel," she called. "Hey. Want to wake up and tell me what the hell's going on?"

He didn't move, continuing to snore, and she approached the bed, really looking him over. His tan coat was tossed over the second chair. The clothes that had been pristine when she'd last seen him were hardly that now. He, too, looked like he'd gone a round or two with a hellhound. Blood also stained his clothes, only his looked awfully fresh….

Bending, she touched one spot on his shirt, rubbing it a little with a finger. It left a reddish mark on her skin. How hurt was he?

With a quick bite of her lip in indecision, she decided she'd apologize later if she upset him. Removing his tie, she set it on the nightstand, then undid the buttons on his shirt, tugging it free of his pants and spreading the edges. Her eyes widened and she hissed through her teeth as his chest and stomach were exposed.

Wounds criss-crossed his flesh. It looked like he'd been whipped and not only that, there were bruises of various colors as well. One black bruise at his ribs looked particularly painful.

Strange. Shouldn't he be healed? He'd told both her and her mom about that angel healing ability - at length.

Troubled by that, she did a quick tour of her pockets and was relieved to find she still had her money, her credit cards, and i.d.s. The cash would do for now to buy what they needed and she'd check the cards later.

Drawing on Castiel's coat, she ventured from the motel room into early morning light to acquire some necessities.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Four  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.  
Notes: Thank you for the comments!

* * *

The clock radio at the bedside, circa the 1990's, turned to 8:06 a.m. and Dean decided it was time to get out of bed. He had a breakfast meeting with Gwen at nine. She'd knocked on the door the previous night and requested a private meeting, offering to bring the breakfast of his choice. How could he turn down free food?

Sam had just left on a run with Christian and supposedly Mark had pulled an all-nighter on some sort of research and was asleep.

He let out a long, heavy sigh. The future stretched out in front of him and he wasn't sure what he wanted to make of that future. Did he want to go back to hunting? It certainly seemed like it was his destiny and Sam _was_ back.

Where was his conviction that hunting was the right thing to do however? Where had that gone? Everything had become muddied and he felt a little lost in his life. It was surreal that Sam was the one with the conviction now and the commitment to the life. Had that come about because he'd lost his memory? Was that the reason for it? He'd had to go on what felt right and hunting had been it?

A chuckle left Dean. Perhaps someone should wipe his memories, set him loose, and see what happened and where he ended up. It'd be nice to feel like he had a purpose again.

He put his hands behind his head and stared at the water spotted ceiling, his thoughts moving to Lisa and Ben. The relief he'd felt when they'd left had given way to guilt for that relief sometime during the night. That and a sense of failure despite Lisa's well-meaning parting words.

While she was different from the Lisa the Djinn had shown him, she could easily have been that woman. Her silences and sighs, patient and frustrated in this reality, could have indicated resentment of Sam and what he meant to Dean. She could have hated Sam and been jealous of him. She could have not understood their bond at all. The truth was, she didn't hate Sam, wasn't jealous, and did, on some level, 'get' their bond. The Djinn's interpretation of her was the wrong one, for Lisa had seemed to like Sam the past few days and respect his judgment. Maybe him being a primary factor in saving them all had something to do with it.

Dean was glad Sam had helped Lisa make arrangements to disappear, if only because he knew they'd be done right. Nothing would be left to chance. She and Ben would be as safe as Sam could make them. He was grateful for that, since apparently _he_ couldn't protect them.

Sam wanted to know about the Djinn dream, but Dean wasn't ready to share it all just yet. He had to make sure this reality was the solid truth before he let any details slip free.

Maybe he was being overly cautious. Maybe he should tell Sam everything he'd seen in that dream the second Sam got back.

Maybe he should just get up and not be in bed when Gwen got here. That was a start, right?

Sitting up, he tossed the covers aside and glanced up at the ceiling. "Sure would be nice if you'd swing by for a visit, Cas. I need some information on some people and you could clear things up fast." He sighed. "Don't take that wrong. It'd be good to just touch base with you. You there? You hearing me at all?"

He waited ten minutes, but there was no whoosh of angel wings or even Castiel knocking on the door like a normal person. He'd keep trying. No way was he giving up on Castiel.

With an eye on the time, he showered, shaved, dressed, and was ready when Gwen knocked at precisely one minute to nine.

She held a box with a big bag balanced on top of it in one hand and a four cup tray that held four cups. "Coffee, orange juice, breakfast sandwiches, and a buttload of Krispy Kremes. I got a little of everything they had since I wasn't sure what you liked. Creamer and sugar is in the bag if you need it."

"I like my coffee black usually," he said, taking the drinks from her.

"Me, too. Preferably in an iv drip directly into my veins. I live on coffee, especially these days." Moving past him, she set the box and bag down. "I'd dig in before Mark smells the doughnuts. He can smell a Krispy Kreme doughnut from a mile away."

Once they were seated, he unwrapped his sandwich and tried to do some small talk that wasn't small talk. "There any truth to us being cousins?"

Gwen finished the bite of her sandwich, washing it down with orange juice. "Maybe. We'll get to that soon. After we eat. Though I will say, Sam laughed about the name when he got his memories back. Said he thought Meg got us all. Not sure who Meg is. He didn't elaborate."

"Meg's a demon. So…when did that happen exactly? Him getting his memories back. I'm a little fuzzy on the details."

Her stare was amused. "Uh-huh. You know, Dean, you can ask all you want and try to trip us up, but the facts remain the same. This is real."

"Just answer me."

"Okay." She set her sandwich down and reached for her coffee. "We were in Illinois passing by a field and Sam sucked in a breath and told us he'd buried his brother Dean there after a hellhound dragged his soul to hell and an angel named Castiel rescued Dean and brought him back. It was pretty fast after that. Childhood things, then the rest. He'd narrate the memories as they came and from that first one about burying you, he tried to find you. Of course, he didn't have details he needed until the last bits about the promise you made rolled in. We handed over the job we were on to another hunter in the area and headed here for a reunion. He couldn't wait to see you." She took a drink of the coffee.

"Why'd you come with him?"

"He asked us to. I guess he wanted our support." She set the cup back down. "He was afraid you'd think he abandoned you when you found out he'd been alive for a year before coming to see you. He was really afraid of that, yammering on until Christian told him to shut up about it. His amnesia was real."

"I know."

"Do you? Because it frustrated him. The fact that he couldn't remember anything, not even what the two hunters claimed he'd done bothered him. And when he did remember those things and the demon Ruby…." She shrugged. "He was ashamed of it. Still is, I think. He gets that look sometimes."

"There's no Samuel pulled from somewhere in the beyond to make you guys a team? No rest of the family or compound or family archives?"

Her brows rose and she looked like she had no idea what he was talking about. "Nope. No Samuel. No rest of the family. Hunting isn't conducive to having big families. We tend to die young. Mark, Christian, and I…. We thought we'd made it out, you know? It pulled us back in, kicking and screaming at the unfairness of it and how bloody it was when it happened. I sometimes miss having a home and life outside of hunting. It's not in my cards, I guess."

He nodded. He could understand that very well. "And Christian isn't a complete dick, Mark does occasionally talk, and you…. You're not what the Djinn made you out to be either."

"Is that a good thing? Me, I mean."

"Don't know yet." His gut told him he could trust her and that she was being straight with him. Could he trust his gut?

"Ahh. Let me know when you figure it out. As for Christian, he's the kind of guy who was never good with his peers. With kids, yeah. He's great with kids, but most adults find him abrasive. Mark does talk. He has his favorite topics that he'll go on and on about, like trains."

"Trains?"

"I kid you not. Trains. Guy's a big train enthusiast. Likes to sit and watch them, which is a snooze-fest in my opinion. It's his thing, though."

"What about you, Gwen. What's your thing?"

She set the coffee down. "I'm just a woman in search of a demon to torture and obliterate off the face of the earth for what it did to my family and friends."

"Join the club."

"Card carrying member. That's my thing."

She had the sort of steely resolve in her eyes and voice that Dean remembered from his dad. "You said we'd talk about us being cousins after we ate?" He finished his sandwich and opened the doughnut box, choosing three tasty looking confections.

"We can start now if you want." Leaning over, she pulled a sheaf of papers from her bag. "Here. I did this yesterday and thought we could go through it together, look at the common names and see if we're family after all."

"You did a genealogy in a day?" He hadn't asked her to, or even indicated he'd wanted a report.

"Sure. You seem like the kind of guy who wants the details. Was I wrong to look it all up?"

He took the papers. "No. I do want to know where we all stand on the family tree. Or if there's a single tree at all."

"I'm curious, too."

Dean laid the papers between them so they could both read as they finished breakfast.

* * *

The angel who'd evicted Castiel strolled through heaven as if she had no particular destination in mind. When Raphael's spies eventually glanced away from her, she took the opportunity to slip away and through a hidden door into a section of heaven disguised as human heaven.

As the protections about the place closed around her, she felt the tension inside her ease somewhat. Walking the line before Raphael was draining, yet necessary. She strode the corridor towards the office at the back of the hidden complex.

"How is he?"

The voice stopped her and she paused. "My report is for Naomi, Samandriel."

"You can tell me that detail without compromising anything else. We need to know he's not been damaged beyond repair by Raphael."

The last of Castiel's angel friends were hiding here in Naomi's region of heaven, given sanctuary by her merely because she found them all useful at present. Samandriel, Inias, Rachel, and a few others, friends he'd made who, for one reason or another, had been unable to come forward when he'd needed them. They all regretted that decision now, though she suspected they were relieved it wasn't they who'd gotten the beating from Raphael.

Tucking her long black hair behind her ears, she decided to tell him. "He lives and there's a human with him who will take care of him. She's been charged with making sure he survives."

"What more does Raphael have planned for him? Surely she won't just forget about Castiel now? It's not her way. She'll make life as hard as she can, see if she can break Castiel as a human, too."

"Perhaps. The woman -"

"We should be helping him. We're his family."

"You should have remembered that when he cried out for help."

Samandriel flinched. "You know Naomi had me on other business."

"You could have left it."

"And had her after me as well as Raphael?" His own words seemed to shame him and he looked down at the floor. "It's what Castiel would have done. He defied all of heaven and…. _We_ should be helping him now."

With a glance back at Naomi's office, she stepped close to him. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"If you get in the way…. Everything will go wrong. Do you understand me?"

Turning, he began to walk away.

"He calls the Winchester brothers his family now, Samandriel."

He stopped. "After we failed him multiple times, I don't blame him."

There was nothing more to say and she hurried into the office. Once inside, she stood waiting, knowing better than to speak before she was bidden to.

A folder was open in front of Naomi on the top of the wide desk. Slowly, she closed it, her cool gaze raising to study her operative. "Well?"

"He's in place, as is the woman."

"Is Raphael pleased with the job you've done?"

"Yes. She spoke of making me the head of the watch." Meaning she'd continue to be in charge of Castiel in his human form, giving reports to Raphael on what he and the woman were up to. And reports to Naomi, of course. There were always reports to Naomi.

"Has the appointment been made official?"

"Not yet."

"What's Raphael waiting for?"

"The reports from the first week I believe. She wants to make sure I'm right for the position."

"Are you?"

"Yes. Castiel doesn't know my vessel. He never saw me in that form and it's not like he'll be able to see our natural forms anymore. Us or anything else. Raphael was sure of it."

"Based on what? Raphael's own ideas of what removing our powers does?"

She had no answer, for Naomi was right. Raphael had no basis for that idea. It could be right or wrong.

Naomi tapped a finger on the desk. "Don't be too certain. Castel has proven…resilient. Remain cautious. Were there any problems you came across when you placed him and the woman in the motel?"

"None."

Naomi waited, brows raising as if she already knew that wasn't exactly true. She folded her hands together on the folder. That calm gaze was unnerving.

"There is one thing I didn't expect."

She cocked her head a fraction to one side. "Go on."

"His being is knitting together with the body on a cellular level. He…. He could really be becoming human."

Was that the slightest flicker of surprise in her superior's eyes?

No, it couldn't be. Nothing surprised Naomi. Nothing ever had. She seemed to always have a firm grasp on situations and had plans in place to deal with them. Like with Raphael. Naomi had relocated her office back before the apocalypse was thwarted and Raphael took over. If Raphael wanted to see her, she had to make an appointment and wait for her to come to her.

Or perhaps she merely had a good sense of self-preservation, the operative thought. Naomi had the potential to be a serious threat to Raphael and Raphael knew it.

Naomi lifted the folder and laid it to one side, then reached for another in the small stack by her elbow. "Keep me apprised of any future changes in his state."

With that, she was dismissed.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Five  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Gwen presented the information to Dean at breakfast the next morning, going through it with him over doughnuts and coffee. He spent more time looking at her than the papers. His stare was unnerving and she finally stared back and asked, "What?" He appeared to be trying to see right through her, if that intense stare was any indication. It was far worse than when Christian got to that stony angry phase about something or other.

"Nothing." Flipping a page, he looked down at it. "It's all wrong."

"Wrong? How so?" She put a jelly filled doughnut on her paper plate and added more sugar to her coffee. Christian always told her it wasn't good for her to have as much sugar as she liked in her coffee, that it'd make her jittery. Christian often teased her if she'd like 'some coffee with her sugar'. Dean didn't appear to notice the many packets of sugar she'd already used. It was a nice change of pace since Sam had jumped on that bandwagon too. It'd be nice to have another person who wasn't a health nut around. Christian and Sam alone were fine, but put them together and they sucked all the fun out of eating. "I looked through all the names and dates. Everything matches."

"Never mind." He took a drink of his coffee.

"Dean, come on. What's all wrong? I can't do anything about it if you don't tell me what's wrong in this. There're other sites I can try and we can always do it the old fashioned way."

"I'm not talking the papers here, although they're kind of hinkey too."

"Does this have something to do with the dream the Djinn gave you?"

He flipped another page. "Maybe, but something doesn't feel right here, with us."

"What do you want us to do? We've already done all the tests, including a couple I'd never heard of, and we're trying to keep our distance because Sam advised us to for now. I'm not sure what else we can do except talk and get to know each other, which should take care of -."

"You ever get into a situation where your gut is screaming something is off, but you can't quite put your finger on it?"

"Sure." She sat back. Sam had mentioned that Dean's gut feelings were something to be trusted and her own instincts were telling her to listen to him. "It's a feeling we learn to trust as we get better at hunting."

"That's what I've got right now. Something about this, about us five, is wrong and I'm not just talking about Castiel being missing. Do you not feel it?"

Gwen thought about it. There were a few things that had been bothering her, yet nothing that sent alarm bells screaming. They were more like little weird moments of strangeness. "Well…. I've always wondered how we managed to come upon Sam and it's sure some mighty coincidence that we're related. Not to mention that we were all drawn back into the life fairly recently, like -."

"It's a set-up?" His brows rose with the question, then slid back down. He raised a finger. "First rule: it's never a coincidence. These things don't just happen, Gwen. There's more going on behind the scenes than most people understand."

He sort of sounded like a conspiracy theorist except she believed every word herself. There _was_ more going on. As hunters, they should be more aware of that fact than other people. "Maybe it was just God, looking out for Sam. He said it had happened before with both of you."

His glance told her he thought her naïve for that idea.

"Okay, maybe not. Thought I'd throw out that theory. What do _you_ think?"

Dean finished the last bit of doughnut before replying. "I think someone manipulated you three into finding him and…How sure are you that Christian and Mark are Christian and Mark?"

"Positive. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. You've done the tests yourself."

"Can't be too careful."

"No, but you can become too paranoid."

"No you can't. Not when everything and everyone really is out to get you. You can't think in terms of being too paranoid as a hunter. You're either paranoid or you're dead. You know that. You _have_ to to have made it this far."

She nodded, acknowledging that he was right. There had to be a certain level of paranoia and maybe if she, Mark, and Christian had stayed paranoid instead of growing complacent, the people they'd loved and cared for would still be alive. Dean and Sam had had Djinn watching them for a long time and she knew there were plenty of other creatures that wanted a piece of the Winchester brothers. They had a right to be paranoid. "What could be wrong? Do you have any ideas?"

Sitting back, he tossed the papers on the table. "Don't know. Could be not any of us specifically, but something around us."

"Like what? We killed the Djinn."

"Lots of things, Gwen. Like maybe there are demons listening in. Or angels. Angels can stand right out of sight and listen to everything we say and we'd never know it."

"I didn't even know they really existed until Sam confirmed it."

"Neither did I until Cas pulled me from hell." He glanced towards the window. "We need to put up an angel sigil to keep them out." With a frustrated sigh, he shook his head. "I don't want to keep Cas from finding us though." He tapped a finger on the table. "It could be something on the way. I don't think Death would bother, he'd just show up and be cryptic before pushing things how he wants them."

"You know Death?"

"Sure. And a reaper."

Somehow, she wasn't surprised. Not with all Sam had shared. "Oh. So, not him probably. Maybe an angel or demon -"

"Pagan god or goddess." He went through a meandering list of creatures that seemed a few verbal miles long, ending with, "Could even be witches. They try to get their skeevy hands into everything."

When Sam had told her they'd made a lot of enemies, she'd had no idea the list was that long. "No way to narrow that list."

"Not yet. Whatever it is, it's something that found out who you all are to us and got us together."

"Does it have to be a bad thing," she ventured with a shrug.

"When things manipulate our lives in specific ways like this it usually is." He crumpled the cup, laying it on top of the paper plate his breakfast had been on. "They all act like we're chess pieces on some damn cosmic board."

"I don't think of this as bad, Dean. You're sort of a legend, you and Sam. Some have even thought you're not real, just myths, like, I don't know, like the knights of the round table or something." Gwen tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Myths, huh."

"Yeah. You know, maybe what you're feeling…it's simpler than any of that. Maybe you're having an emotional reaction to almost dying and there's nothing wrong. Have you considered that?"

With an annoyed scowl, he jabbed a finger at her. "I'm not rusty."

"I didn't say that. Could have sworn we just discussed your ideas on what could be going on. I was only putting out a different idea. I'm open to the possibility of some cosmic strings being pulled by someone, but what you're feeling could also be a reaction to what happened. Just consider it, okay?"

He stood, shaking his head. "I've come close to dying before and actually died a ton of times. This is real."

She held up her hands and let him have the conversation. "If you feel so strongly about it, then what do you want to do? Give me a place to start and we'll get on it."

Gwen had the feeling that she'd shocked him somehow and wasn't sure what she'd done. She waited for his response.

* * *

What _did_ he want to do?

Dean pondered that question. It was almost surreal that Gwen appeared to be deferring to him on this, like she expected him to take charge and give her orders like a general or something. Was she right? He had to consider her idea as well as his own because he knew it could happen. Was he seeing what wasn't there and this was a simple reaction? A little PTSD? Was he letting the Djinn dream cloud reality?

Leaving the table and going to the window, he looked out at the parking lot. He hated this feeling he was having of being off-kilter. He was afraid and was mixing up the people in his dream with the ones right here with him, judging them on those twisted actions in the dream. Dean realized he was even doing it with Sam, looking at him as if he was the strange Sam who'd been raised without a soul and not the brother who'd come running the second he'd gotten his memories back.

He needed to put the dream aside and let it go. Why couldn't he? Why was he holding on to it? Why was it so much easier to think of them as those people in the dream?

Because he didn't have to think about those people. He'd known those versions and already done the getting to know you bit and been screwed by them. With the people here, he'd have to do it all over again and hope that he didn't get screwed over this time.

Because the Djinn had tapped into his greatest fears. Those fears were a part of him, always there under the surface. He feared betrayal by his family, feared that there was something wrong with Sam, feared he'd be a terrible father. These were the things that got deep under his skin.

Those were the things the Djinn had sussed out and used against him and Dean hated that vulnerability.

Turning back to Gwen, he studied her. The real woman was rather different in some ways than her dream counterpart. This woman wouldn't blindly follow an order. He could see that in her eyes. She'd make damn sure whatever order he gave made sense before going about it. She wasn't a frustrated hunter stuck in the back with the rejects, put there by Samuel. This woman wouldn't take that sort of crap.

"How long have you been hunting, Gwen?"

"Longer than I thought I'd live through."

An answer any of them could give. He nodded. "I hear you."

"Not many of us manage to get out and stay out, but after the demon took everything, I decided to do it on my terms. I'd hunt what I wanted to hunt the way I wanted to hunt it until I found that demon and killed it. Then I'd think about other things."

"Yet you're asking me for a direction."

She shrugged, the tiny curl of a smile on her lips. "Sam says you're a good man to follow and I trust him. Besides, I think I like you."

"God help me."

Gwen laughed at that. "You've danced this dance, walked this walk, and if I can learn a few things from you, I will. But if you don't want me here, I'll leave. Simple as that. I don't stay where I'm not wanted. Say the word and I'm out of here."

"And Christian and Mark?"

"You'd have to have this conversation with them. I think they'd leave if you didn't want them around. It'd be a shame though, since there's no more of us. I sort of wish we could have met you and Sam years ago. Would have been nice to know you sooner."

He was starting to agree, finding himself liking Gwen. "Okay. Keep an eye out. Keep it quiet. Let me talk to Christian and Mark."

There was a knock on the door and he stepped over, opening it. Speak of the devil, Dean thought. Mark stood there.

"I smell Krispy Kreme," Mark asked. He looked like he'd just woken up and not bothered to comb his hair or change clothes.

"Told you," Gwen called out.

Dean opened the door a bit wider to let him by. "Gwen did warn me."

"Did she now? I gotta have me some Krispy Kreme." He laid a battered spiral notebook on the bed and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You know the trains that go through this town are awesome?"

"Oh, geez," Gwen commented as she cleaned up the table. "I thought you were sleeping, not train gazing."

"I needed to relax." He snagged a doughnut.

"Relax?" Dean shut the door. "How is that relaxing? For that matter, how is it awesome?"

"Those trains have gone all over the U.S.."

"My car has gone all over the U.S.. I don't see you wanting to sit and watch it drive by."

"Fantastic graffiti and it's soothing. The rumble of the train on the tracks, the wail of the whistle. Some day, I'm going to travel across the country only by train. My girlfriend and I always…." He stopped before finishing that sentence, frowning and shoving half the doughnut in his mouth.

The way he did it and his expression told Dean a wealth of information, like how fresh the emotional wound still was. Couldn't be much over a year or so. "How long ago," he asked.

"Fifteen months," Gwen answered for Mark. "It was fifteen months for her and sixteen for their son. Fourteen for the rest."

"The rest?"

Mark swallowed the bite. "Some day when I've had too much to drink I'll fill in the details for you, Dean. It's not something I want to go over sober." He reached for the notebook, flipping open to a page near the back and laying it on the table. "You two should look at this. I've got a couple potential cases, nothing major, but they'd test us out as a team, let us feel each other out for how we all like to work. Ghost in Missouri and what may or may not be another ghost in Kentucky."

"Assuming Sam and I want to stick with you all."

"Either way is fine by me, but keep in touch if you want the latter."

"Why should we keep in touch?"

Mark glanced at Gwen. "As few of us seem to be out there these days, it'd be good to have some sort of network again."

Dean returned to the table and slid the notebook over to look at what Mark had written. "As few of us?" His handwriting was small and cramped, hard to read.

"Didn't Sam tell you? A lot of hunters are gone. Dead or disappeared. That mess about a year ago killed quite a few. Over half my contact list was gone when Gwen, Christian, and I started making calls. Same with their contact lists. Haven't you tried to check in with anyone the past couple days?"

"No. Sam didn't say anything and no, I haven't tried calling anyone."

He began to do just that after Sam and Christian got back and it was only he and Sam in the room. As he spoke to people, he was able to start eliminating names based on the conversations. The only person he didn't ask about and number he didn't try was Bobby's, half afraid Bobby was gone.

"Did you know," he asked while Sam finished dressing.

"Know what?"

"About the hunters that are gone."

His nod was slow. "I knew there were a lot out of touch, but I haven't tried anyone."

"Not even Bobby?"

Sam shook his head. "Not even. First priority was getting to you. I figured I'd call him or something later. Let you tell him I'm back and okay maybe. He's liable to hang up if he hears my voice."

"That he is. Liable to ask me what the hell I did this time to get you topside, too." Definitely precedence for that question. He thought a moment about the two hunts Mark wanted them to all go on. "What say we let the cousins go on about a hunt and the two of us head over and see Bobby for a couple days?"

Sam paused in putting on a button-down shirt over his t-shirt. "We should. He'll want to know and won't appreciate it if we wait too long."

The cousins, however, were willing to pass the two hunts on to another hunter and follow Dean and Sam, caravan-style, across the country to South Dakota. Dean wondered why they were so willing to do that, but put it down to them, possibly, honestly wanting to spend time to get to know him better. Gwen seemed to, as did Mark. He had trouble thinking that Christian might want to know anyone, dick he still seemed to be, yet conceded to himself that he was being unfair.

Traveling in a caravan was even a little fun, though he didn't admit it out loud. Sam and Christian looked over the maps when they stopped, checking their route while Mark mostly stayed in the car and wrote in a notebook, and Gwen…. Gwen had fun. It got so Dean would watch her whenever they stopped. She'd talk to anyone and, at one tourist place, tried on the goofy hats one by one and made faces up at the security mirror that ringed the store.

At their current stop, the sheer size of the slushie she bought impressed him. "You could drown in that," he told her.

"I can think of worse ways to go than drowning in delicious, sugary goodness. Grab a cup. I'll buy you one. Cherry, blue stuff, or plain, boring soda one?"

"Cherry. It's a classic."

"Yes, but with the blue stuff, I can get it all over my lips as well as tongue, close my eyes, and wait for Christian to look over and think I've choked on something and died."

He smothered a laugh. "Kind of mean, Gwen." A little funny, but mean.

"He should know better, he's a freakin' doctor. Ain't no way a _slushie_ is taking me out. You'd think he'd remember the joke by now, but he falls for it every single time. So, if you suddenly see the car behind you swerve off the road, it's just him making Mark climb in back to check for my pulse." She paid for their drinks and headed to the car.

Dean followed her out onto the sidewalk.

Christian approached from inside the store, carrying a bag from the fast food place attached to the convenience store. "She get one of those blue things again?"

"Yup."

"She tell you the last time she had one she took a Benadryl for an allergy, fell asleep, and it really did look like she'd died in the back seat?"

"Left that out."

"Yup. Gwen's a peach. Life's not dull with her around. We're ready to go when you are."

Dean took a drink of the slushie Gwen had bought him. "Soon as Sam's done pumping gas, we'll get back on the road."

"Sounds good." Christian headed for the other car and Dean could hear him start to bicker with Gwen about the slushie.

From the corner of his eye he saw a movement and, as he turned his head, he thought he saw a woman standing at the corner of the store, yet when he stepped to look, no one was there. With a prickle of unease, he moved towards the Impala. That prickle stayed with him all the way to the highway, then dissipated into nothingness.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Six  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Jo returned to the room with several large bags. She'd bought a few clothes, toiletries, food, first aid supplies, and several papers.

First things first. She cleaned and dressed Castiel's wounds while he slept, wondering if there were more marks on his back. He was a dead weight, too heavy for her to move. Whoever had whipped him had been vicious and it wasn't a new thing either. She found thin scars beneath the fresh marks, meaning that whatever angelic healing ability he'd had had failed him.

Did that mean he was human? Odd. How on earth had they ended up together in a motel room?

She went to take a shower, taking her time and lingering. It was good to finally feel clean and to put on fresh clothes. That act somehow made her feel like she maybe did belong back in the land of the living.

Time passed.

He remained sprawled on his back, one hand dangling off the edge of the bed. Jo found herself studying that hand from her place in the chair. Long, lean fingers with well-groomed nails. It didn't look like the hand of the soldier she knew he was. It looked like a pianist's hand. She had to remind herself that the hand belonged to his vessel and not to him. Had his vessel played piano? Or any other instrument? Not that it mattered. Idle speculation.

Jo watched tv, played solitaire, and read the papers, spending the time catching up. She passed the hours like she always did on her own, including a nap when she got sleepy and a quick trip to the fast food place across the street for dinner.

Castiel slept through it all. He was still sleeping when Jo went to bed at midnight, not waking when she pushed, shoved, and kicked him to one single side of the bed instead of the center where he'd somehow shifted to during the afternoon. Funny how he'd managed to move over without her actually seeing it happen. Jo curled up under the covers, waking back up at seven. She had to kick, push, and shove Castiel back on one side of the bed again. Sometime during the night, he'd rolled over and flung an arm and leg across her, his mouth at her ear. He hadn't snored that time.

On his back once more, he was again a dead weight and she checked his wounds before going about getting dressed. A couple of them were gone, vanished completely and the rest didn't look as raw as they had. He was healing, but not like he should. It wasn't nearly fast enough for angelic healing, yet too fast for human healing.

One, two, three, four days went by in the same manner.

Castiel slept on.

How long could one angel sleep? Waking him wasn't an option because she'd tried. He was oblivious.

Was he going to wake up? Or was she stuck here with an angel that really _was_ comatose? She couldn't just leave him here alone. Her conscience wouldn't allow that. Besides, she wanted to know why she'd been brought back from the dead and hoped he had that answer.

And also, there was the question of where to go. She couldn't remember any phone numbers or addresses for people she'd known, so contacting fellow hunters for information or shelter was out of the question. There were holes in her knowledge, very specific holes that pertained to hunting, all the phone numbers and addresses. Someone had carefully removed those. She had to half laugh that she, Jo Harvelle, might be considered dangerous in some way to the person or thing who'd scrubbed her mind. Or rather, who she knew might be dangerous. Why bother raising her at all if her memory had to be 'sanitized'?

But then she remembered that Dean and Sam Winchester _were_ considered dangerous, much more so than anyone else she'd known. They'd battled Lucifer himself, and gauging the look of the world, had won that fight. She knew them and any of those other hunters she'd known might know where they were. Playing hopscotch among hunters to find one with information on them really wasn't that difficult. She'd seen her mother do it often enough just to check on them and others.

She'd been cut off from all hunters though. She and _Castiel_ had been cut off. So far, anyway.

She squinted at his prone form. Unless he'd rescued her somehow from something? Maybe he'd wake up and have the contacts she couldn't pull from memory anymore? Maybe it was simply a matter of waiting for him to wake up and everything would be righted. He'd get up, fix her memory holes, and they'd go straight to Dean and Sam.

Not likely given past experiences, but hey, a girl could dream.

Jo frowned and reached for his coat. Maybe he still had that cell phone. He'd had one when she'd first met him. He hadn't known how to use it properly, but he had had one. She hadn't bothered to look through his pockets when she'd put the coat on the first day. She'd been more concerned with keeping her bloodstained clothes hidden from view while she shopped.

Searching Castiel's coat only produced a well-worn, rubber-banded copy of a 'Supernatural' book, a broken cell phone, a pocket full of change neatly contained in a plastic zip baggie (mostly nickels and pennies), a knife she thought was an angel blade, and a wallet with only a fake FBI badge, a driver's license for Jimmy Novak, and nothing else in it. She read the book while waiting for him to wake up, a little surprised to find that Dean and Sam were the stars.

On the fifth day, Castiel finally woke up.

* * *

Somehow, Dean wasn't surprised when Bobby's response was exactly what he and Sam were expecting.

Disappointment reflected in Bobby's eyes as he took in the group outside his front door and he shook his head sadly. "Son of a bitch, Dean. What the hell did you do this time to break him out? I gotta help you try and break a deal with that bastard Crowley or something? You two have got stupid dripping out your ears. I ought to rename you dumb and dumber." Turning, he moved back into the house.

Dean heard a feminine snicker from behind him. Gwen _would_ find that amusing.

"I can explain," he insisted, then held up a hand at the group of four behind him, "Wait here," and followed Bobby into the house. Sam had agreed before they'd gotten there to let Dean do the talking and wait for the usual tests before going in the house. "I didn't do anything, Bobby. Swear to God."

"Damn it, Dean. You were going to leave it alone."

"I did!" At Bobby's chiding glance, he raised his chin a fraction and amended, "Sort of."

He crossed his arms. "Sort of?"

"I looked through every book I could get my hands on, but what I'm trying to get to, is it wasn't anything I did. Him being here? Not on me. He woke up pulled free in a field not long after he and Lucifer took a nosedive. He's had amnesia the better part of a year, it all came back pretty recent."

"How recent?"

"A couple weeks, three I guess by now. The cousins have been -"

"You've got cousins? Which side?"

"Mom's."

"Really. I thought that demon Meg killed them all."

"So did we. The connections are back enough they probably weren't in mom's address book and it's not like Meg would have done the genealogy just to find relatives of ours to kill."

"You think. Don't underestimate a determined demon," he said with a dark frown.

"Determined demon? What's that supposed to mean? You having a problem with Crowley? He didn't keep your contract did he? A loophole of some kind allowing him to?"

"No, I'm a free soul. He kept his promise - surprisingly. I thought I'd have to battle him to get it back. There're…other things going on. Let me get this straight. You lost Sam to the pit and he came back with three cousins?"

"Yes."

"Huh." He studied Dean a long moment. "I don't see your lady friend and her kid out there."

Dean looked down at the floor and back up. "Didn't work out."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Happens."

"So you got Sam back and a bonus family with him." Bobby sighed. "Right. Well, let's get them all tested and get them in here for introductions."

Everyone appeared to be on their best behavior, which surprised Dean. He'd just assumed Gwen would act up in some way since he'd come to realize she was the one to watch out for, but no, she was polite and even asked before sitting on the couch. Her small angelic smile didn't fool him. As soon as she deemed it safe to be herself, she'd cut loose. Kind of reminded him of him sometimes. Was that proof of kin or what?

"You some sort of researcher, Mr. Singer," Christian asked, running a finger along the cover of one book that he'd picked up. A glance at the title revealed it looked to be in Latin.

"I do a little here and there," was the terse answer. "Let's be getting back to the whole you three finding Sam part of this story. You just stumbled on him? Out of all the hunters in the country you three Campbells could find, you happened to come across your long lost cousin out of the blue? Oh, no, that's not sketchy."

Sam sighed. "Dean already pointed out it was probably engineered by an angel or something."

"Them being involved is never good. Didn't it occur to any of you how strange that was?"

Christian flipped open the book and ignored the question.

Mark's shoulders hunched and he slid down a little on the couch cushion. He stared at the toes of his boots.

Gwen, on the other hand, nodded. "Of course it did. It was only about three weeks ago now that Sam got his memory back and we spent most of that traveling. First, to get to Dean, then get him up and moving, and finally to get here. We haven't had much time to really look at it and figure out the why. Dean and I did briefly discuss it and didn't come to any kind of conclusion."

"What's your plan for figuring it out? Assuming you got one."

She cleared her throat. "I was under the impression we came here so that you could help us formulate some kind of plan."

Bobby turned his attention to Dean. "That true?"

Dean held up his hands. "We came to let you know Sam was alive and it wasn't my fault this time. Getting help in figuring things out is extra."

"Why don't you call Castiel down? I'm sure he can clear things up for you."

From the table came Christian's voice. "They would if they could. Apparently their angel friend is declining to answer any summons they make." He flipped a page. "Mind if I read this?"

"Since you asked so nicely, go ahead." Bobby's annoyance was wrapped about the words.

Christian didn't seem to notice. "Thanks." He lifted the book and carried it to Bobby's favorite chair, where he sat and began to read.

Bobby's frown deepened. "Make yourself at home."

"Uh-huh." Christian nodded and, from experience, it was clear to Dean that he'd checked out and wasn't paying attention to anything but the book. They could set off a bomb and he might glance up if it was loud enough.

"We can't call Castiel." Sam leaned against the table. "He appears to be missing. You didn't hear from him at all?"

"The first month or so, he came around a couple times. Had me put up a few sigils to lock him in a room for a few hours and that was it. Didn't say anything really, only that Raphael wasn't willing to play nice."

"Raphael the archangel?" Gwen stood and stepped over to stand beside Dean.

"That's the one."

She crossed her arms. "Castiel went back to heaven to sort things out, right? That's what Dean said. Maybe he and Raphael are fighting it out?"

A chill swept down Dean's spine. "Maybe." What would Castiel do to beat Raphael? "What's Crowley up to these days, Bobby?"

"Crowley? How do you go from Raphael to him?"

"Just answer me."

"How the hell should I know? He leaves me alone, I leave him alone. It's best that way."

"Come on. What's he up to?"

Bobby sighed. "What do you think? The usual. Duking it out with Meg and everyone else who threatens his status. Currently, it's her. They're battling over running hell. Meg changed her tune as soon as Lucifer was defeated and now she's challenging Crowley's power base with her latest batch of supporters, some of which are rumored to be angelic dropouts."

"Angelic dropouts?" Mark perked up from his place on the couch. "You mean fallen angels?"

"Maybe."

"Bobby?" Sam frowned. "Are you saying we've got a bunch of angels roaming around who aren't under heaven's control anymore?"

"Yes." He nodded. "At least they seem like angels. Got the powers. Got the attitude."

Got free will courtesy of Castiel showing them it was possible to do what they wanted and not merely what heaven wanted. Dean didn't say it out loud. "Why would they support a demon? They can see the abomination under the human host."

"If they're fallen, then why _wouldn't_ they support one," Mark asked. "If they know they're not bound by heaven anymore and can choose what they want, doesn't that mean they might choose to sway events in hell? Maybe see if they can change things there? Stretch their wings sort of thing."

Dean looked down at the floor. "An angel dips his wings in hell, he becomes worse than a demon. Hell corrupts him until there's nothing left of the angel, an abomination more terrible than any ever on earth."

"Dean?"

He looked up. The question as to how Dean knew that was in Sam's eyes. Maybe it was time to disclose the entirety of the Djinn dream to him. "Just speculation. Hell corrupts. It's what it does. No way righteousness can stand up under a willful walking with demons."

He'd tell Sam everything later that day. It was time Sam knew.

* * *

The sensations Castiel felt upon waking were unfamiliar to him and he wondered why. He'd woken from a coma before, even woken from sleep. There should be no differences. This awakening was different, however.

Emotion was a rolling boil inside him and he felt every ache and pain in Jimmy's body. He felt strange, as if this really was _his_ body. Even when he'd descended into humanity the last time he hadn't felt that. There had been a detachment between self and body. Not so now. This was the same sensation he had in his natural form.

Why was it different this time? Had Raphael really managed to make him human? Was this body now his natural form?

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, moving carefully and staring at the wall in an attempt to get his bearings. He felt thirst and that gnawing sensation of hunger in his belly. There was even a little dizziness and he took shallow breaths until it eased.

Castiel recalled the zeal with which Raphael had whipped him and the beatings he'd suffered. Anger rose up at what he'd suffered and finding Jo instead of Ellen with him put him in a sour mood, his disappointment deep.

Was Raphael enjoying the show so far? Of course he'd engineered it so Ellen wouldn't be there. What other outcome had Castiel expected?

His irritability was difficult to keep in check and he was more surly with Jo than he'd intended, hardly like his usual self.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Seven  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Jo glanced up from the novel to find that, not only was Castiel awake, he was sitting up on the edge of the bed giving the wall a suspicious stare. "Hey there. I see Sleeping Beauty woke up all by himself."

He looked at her, the suspicious stare remaining. "You're not Ellen." Disappointment colored his voice.

"Excuse me?"

Castiel's stare slid down to her chest and he heaved a heavy sigh. "You're not Ellen," he repeated.

Was he ogling her chest? His attention was, without a doubt, right there on her girls. Jo glanced down at her breasts, which were definitely nowhere near as big as her mother's. "Obviously."

With a snort, he returned his attention to the wall. "Figures. Raphael _would_ 'screw me over' on that."

The words 'screw me over' were spoken like there were mental finger quotes around them. "Somehow I'm guessing I'm not who you were expecting."

"You think?"

"Wow." She blinked. "I remember you as being nicer, Castiel."

He shook his head. "I mean that he focused on Ellen, forced my memories of her to the surface. Therefore, naturally I assumed…. Never mind."

She closed her book. "You know what happens when you assume."

"No, I don't. What happens?" Raising a hand, he scratched his forefinger against his temple.

"You really don't know the saying?"

"It does sound familiar," he admitted.

"You…make an ass out of 'u' and 'me'."

He didn't even crack a smile, nodding. "I see. A play on the word itself. Clever."

"Can't take credit for it. I think it was from an episode of 'The Odd Couple'." She set the book aside. "So, not to complain in your first five minutes awake, but why the hell am I here anyway? I was dead and sort of enjoying my afterlife…as well as one can enjoy it. Not too thrilled to be back in the game." An understatement really. She'd found herself longing for the peace she'd had in heaven as the hours had passed.

One hand moved to rest on the bedspread. "I never intended for your rest to be disturbed."

"Only my mother's?"

His frown deepened. "Raphael told me to pick a companion from any in human heaven, one to show me human ways."

"And you wanted that companion to be my mom?"

"She was logical, though I did try not to think of anyone at all."

"So how did you end up with me?"

One shoulder lifted in a shrug. "It's just like Raphael to claim to be generous and merciful and choose you for me simply because we didn't get along."

"We didn't get along?" Sort of news to her and not exactly how she remembered it.

"Not like Ellen and I. Ellen understood me in those few hours. You, Jo, didn't."

"Gee, thanks. Way to bolster a girl's ego. You know, I can always leave if you don't want me here."

"I never said that. Besides, Raphael gave you to me. You should stay."

Gave? "Yeah, you did say it. Your tone conveyed it pretty well and let's get one thing straight right now. I don't belong to anyone."

He grimaced. "I didn't mean to imply that you did. I meant…." Castiel bowed his head and ran a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I apologize, Jo. I'm not myself right now. May we start over?"

She watched him. He was holding himself so upright it looked like he had a yardstick strapped to his spine. Maybe if she let him start over he'd be nicer. "Go for it."

"Thank you. You began with calling me Sleeping Beauty. The title is familiar, yet I can't think of what it means at present. My response should have been…Hello, Jo Harvelle. I apologize for the inconvenience of your soul being pulled from heavenly rest and placed back in your re-formed body. I trust you aren't suffering from the wounds you died from?"

"Nope. All my internal organs are right where they should be."

"Good." He turned his head, looking at her again. His hair was standing straight up from where his hand had run through it. "I will endeavor to answer your questions now."

"Okay. Let's start with what happened to you? In fact, what happened period? Everything's still here, so I suppose the apocalypse didn't happen. Did Sam and Dean stop it? Did the Colt kill Lucifer? Ash said something to me about them popping in for a quick visit?"

His explanation was a recitation of facts that was nowhere near as comprehensive as she would have liked, ending with recent events.

* * *

They leaned against the hood of one of the cars, Sam popping open a beer and handing it to Dean. Christian was still pouring over that book of Bobby's while Mark dozed on the couch, and Gwen had sweet talked Bobby into giving her a tour of Sioux Falls. Sam still wasn't sure how she'd managed that one, nor did he expect Bobby to warm to any of the Campbell kin. He didn't blame him. All three had their moments of being rather annoying and/or unlikable. He hoped Gwen was still on her best behavior or she might end up walking back from town.

Sam studied Dean, trying to decide where to start and finally began with, "You want to explain these little freak-outs you've been having?" If he was being honest, they were little and big both. Someone would say something and Dean would act all weird for awhile.

Dean's shoulders lifted in a shrug, his gaze moving over the rows and stacks of vehicles around them.

"Come on. Out with it. What's going on with you?" He planned to pry it from Dean if he had to, force him to have one of those 'girlie heart-to-hearts' if that's what it took to get to the bottom of this.

Dean took a long pull from the bottle. "The Djinn, Sam. It's all about the Djinn."

"What about them?"

He sighed and hoisted himself up to sit instead of lean on the car. "For starters, they gave me this weird ass dream."

Something Sam already knew.

"In it, they'd captured me and you showed up, stopped them. You had the cousins with you and…there was Samuel."

"That explains the Samuel questions." There'd been a lot of Samuel questions, like where did Sam think Samuel was, up or down? Had Sam ever gotten the impression gramps had a bizarre fixation on mom? Did Sam think Samuel ever would have sold them out to a demon? They weren't questions Sam had been able to answer.

"You weren't yourself. No soul. You were pulled out without it. That soullessness made you act like an animal on instinct alone, except, man…. Your instincts sucked." His free hand moved, gesturing as he continued. "You had the worst judgment, killing civilians if they got in the way of taking down the monsters, attacking Bobby…."

"Attacking Bobby? Our Bobby?"

He made a noise that indicated Sam really shouldn't ask for more details on that.

"Sounds like some doozey of a dream."

"Tell me about it. That's not even a quarter of it."

Dean had been watching him pretty closely since waking, scrutinizing every tiny thing he did, barraging him with questions. Hadn't been difficult to figure out that it had something to do with this dream and now he understood why. If he'd had a dream like that about Dean he would have been watching him, too, just to make sure. "A person can't live without a soul."

It took Dean a moment to say anything, as if he had to decide if he wanted to continue the conversation. Sam recognized his expression, the one that indicated he was going to push through this talk even though he didn't really want to. He'd grit his teeth the rest of the way. "It's possible. It turns you into a human monster. No conscience, no -"

"In the _dream_, Dean. It was possible in your Djinn dream. Don't know if it's possible in reality." He didn't see how it could work because when the soul left the body, the body died. How could a soul be gone and the body still live? It made no real sense unless there was a supernatural reason for it. "Was there a reason for it? Like supernatural?"

A weariness slid about Dean's eyes. "Cas. He raised you wrong. Noticed you weren't right and didn't bother figuring it out to fix it. He left you wrong."

"That's not like Castiel."

"I thought so, too." Dean snorted. "That dream. There was so much wrong with all of it, Sam. Lisa wasn't how she really is, but how she could have been. Same with Christian, Mark, and Gwen. They were all images, but waking up to find they're real people…. I have to figure that out."

"Explains some of your other remarks." Like the ones he made about the three that seemed to have no basis in reality. Dean was having a hard time getting to know Christian and Mark, like he had preconceived notions about them. Apparently, he did. He was having an easier time with Gwen. Did that mean he'd gotten along with Gwen in the dream? "Go on."

Dean turned his attention from the vehicles around them and onto Sam. His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer. Sam tried not to look away from that intense stare because Dean was still searching for anything out of the ordinary from him. He was still making sure he had his brother with him and not something else. "We ended up working for Crowley courtesy of Samuel."

"Crowley? Like hell we'd ever work with him again." It was enough to have worked with him to bring down Lucifer. He didn't want to ever have to repeat the experience, with Crowley or any other demon. He'd done that dance and it wasn't ever a good one.

"Aside from you, the worst of it was Cas. He betrayed me, betrayed us. He took dirty souls from Crowley to try to get enough power to defeat Raphael and it all went south so fast…. He…." He took another long drink and returned to watching the cars. "Everything was wrong. Everything I thought, everything I knew, was wrong and it just kept getting worse. Christian was possessed, Mark died, I killed Gwen, Cas broke your mind, and I kept thinking it couldn't get worse and it always did. More and more piled on. The sucky life of Dean Winchester." Finished the beer, he chucked the bottle at the line of cars directly in front of him. The bottle smashed with a crash.

"None of it's true, Dean. You've got to remember that. We killed the Djinn, rescued you, Lisa, and Ben."

"But Christian, Mark, and Gwen are real. Castiel is missing and Raphael may have started a fight with him."

"The Djinn filled your mind with lies. It's not reality."

"Maybe. So what do we do now? Hunt as a group? Drag the cousins around with us?" He gestured at the house. "Not to mention I'm still not one hundred percent sure we _are_ related. Gwen did say the genealogy was surprisingly easy, like it was put there for us to find."

Sam shrugged. "So what? I don't care if we're related or not. They're good people."

"You think I should trust them." It wasn't a question.

"I think you should consider possibly trusting them sometime in the future. They've all got the protection tattoos and they're willing to keep in touch, which is more than some hunters are." Sam stood up and slid his hands into his front jeans pockets. "Look, we don't exactly have a wide circle of contacts these days, Dean. We have Bobby and Rufus and maybe a couple others left who don't blame us for the half apocalypse that took out a chunk of the population and woke up some nasty creatures." He'd been making calls while they'd traveled, trying to get in touch with contacts, and discovered that he and Dean were now notorious in the community. They were being blamed for the big events that happened whether they were responsible or not, scapegoats for every bad thing surfacing. To be fair, they _had_ been directly part of both starting and ending the apocalypse, but some of those other things? They hadn't even been near them. "The rest are like Walt and Roy. They want our heads on pikes."

"No one came after me until the Djinn. I was sitting exposed. If they want us, me, so bad, why didn't anyone try for me the past year?"

"Did you ever think that maybe Castiel hid you, Lisa, and Ben before he disappeared? And Walt and Roy _did_ come after me. Again."

"Maybe he did hide us somehow from hunters and other things. That'd explain it."

He was saying maybe a lot and Sam shrugged once more. "Let's look at where we stand right now. I'm back, with people we think are relatives and still might not be, we've got Bobby and Rufus, and there're a lot of people out there that need saving from the monsters. We've got a team here."

"Don't forget the angelic dropouts and a missing Castiel, a war between Meg and Crowley we'll be cleaning up from, plus a nice side of Raphael ruling the skies."

"Business as usual, Dean. There've always been powerful things roaming around without someone holding their leash. There've always been demons who don't agree with the current regime and there's always been an angel in charge up there who isn't exactly friendly towards humanity. And…." He hated to say it, but Castiel hadn't always been good about showing up when they asked him to. "Castiel may have other things going on and can't come down."

"Yeah, like maybe he's being reprogrammed by Raphael."

"We won't know anything until we see him again. We've tried every way we know how to call him. There's nothing more we can do except wait for him to come to us."

Not that they were going to simply wait. They'd keep calling for Castiel, over and over until he finally appeared.

Sam didn't let the tiny doubt of if he was even able to appear cross his mind. Neither one of them could think like that.

* * *

"Let me get this straight." Jo adjusted her position in the chair. "You weren't able to escape Raphael even with your new powers, so he captured you, tortured you, killed your followers, and sentenced you?"

"Yes."

She snorted. "Who made him judge, jury, and executioner?"

"We did, Jo. We all did. When Gabriel died, and Michael and Lucifer went into the cage. He's got the run of heaven by default, which is rather unfortunate. Few truly want him in charge."

"Great. So what do we do now?"

"I…." He looked helpless and uncertain. "We find Dean. My phone -"

"Broken. As is mine, only yours looks like someone beat it with a hammer a few times."

"I'll try another phone."

She waited patiently while he tried the landline, suspecting now that he'd have the same trouble she had with numbers and addresses.

"Peculiar." He frowned once more. "I can't remember their numbers, any of them, or even the address where Lisa lives. I should know all of those."

"Lisa?"

"Dean's girlfriend. He went to live with her after Sam was gone."

Girlfriend. "Oh." The news that Dean had a girlfriend these days gave Jo mixed feelings. There was happiness for him and regret that their 'wrong time, wrong place' would likely continue. She forced a cheery smile. "Well…. Good for him. After all the crap he's been through, he deserves a life."

He studied her. "I've said the wrong thing. You have feelings for Dean."

"No. No. We were friends and yeah, if he would have noticed me in the girlfriend way aside from a last night on earth lay, I might have…. We were friends. My feelings were a little more than a crush really. He's a great guy. Great. Who wouldn't see that and dream a little?" There was a slight chance she was protesting a little too much. "We were friends."

He directed an awkward smile at her. "It's been months. A year. He may not be with her anymore."

"Or they're very happy."

"Yes. Possibly."

The silence that fell was strained and as awkward as his smile had been.

Castiel shifted his weight, hands gripping the edge of the mattress. "I'm injured."

"I know. I dressed your chest and stomach while you were out."

"My back has wounds as well." His jaw clenched.

Jo reached for the first aid supplies. "Okay. Take your shirt off and turn."

He eyed the cotton balls, antibacterial ointment, and bandages, making no move to undo the buttons on his shirt. "Is this necessary?"

"Can you heal them yourself?"

"No," he admitted.

"Then take your shirt off. I promise I won't swoon." She took a small plastic tub into the bathroom, filled it with warm water and came back out. He still hadn't moved to undo his shirt. "Don't tell me you're shy." She dropped a washcloth in the water.

The teasing remark had the opposite effect to what she'd thought it would. A flush darkened his cheekbones. "I don't care to be unclothed. The last time I was without clothes, I was in a hospital and was…human."

In other words, he'd felt vulnerable and hated it. Jo could relate to that. Before she could start to get all pleased about finding some sort of connection with him, he went on.

"Human and weak. Useless."

"Useless. Mmm. You know," she dunked the washcloth in the water, "for someone who claims to like us humans, you don't seem to like us. Why is that?"

"Humans are weak. It's a fact. You're all weak."

She rolled her eyes. "Says the angel who got his ass kicked by a bigger angel. Not to mention, according to you, Dean and Sam kicked the ass of the baddest of the angels right back into the cage and they're human. Your assertion doesn't track. Care to redefine your definition of weak?"

His lips parted and she saw a flicker of what could be respect in his eyes. "That was a Dean remark."

"Your statement totally deserved a Dean remark."

"I believe we may get along after all, Jo Harvelle." Castiel began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Goody."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Eight  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

His back must not have been as bad as they'd both thought, for Jo barely spent any time cleaning it. Castiel waited for her to tell him he had an infection or needed stitches, but that diagnosis didn't come, merely a generic 'you're patched' before she took the container to be emptied.

"How do you propose we find Dean," he asked, putting his shirt back on and buttoning it up. He was genuinely curious as to the sort of plan she'd come up with. Dean and Sam, Dean mostly, had praised her and Ellen for being very resourceful.

Sometimes Castiel wondered just how many definitions Dean had for the word, since he'd also described some of his dates over the years as having been resourceful.

"That's a good question. I don't know. We can hardly wander across the country hoping to stumble on him."

"We could investigate cases."

She reappeared from the bathroom and set the container on the dresser. Was it his imagination or was she a little paler than she'd been? "Hundreds of jobs out there and no guarantee we'd hit the right one at the right time."

"We could narrow it down to the types they…he…favored." It was hard to remember that Sam was gone. Was Dean still grieving as hard as he'd been when Raphael had captured Castiel? His stomach hurt, but he wasn't sure if it was hunger or a different sort of ache, so he rubbed a hand across it and tried to will the pain away.

"Is there a type he favored?"

Actually, no. He was just trying to make himself feel like they had a direction. "Not particularly, no. Dean is an equal opportunity hunter when deciding on cases. If it's vaguely something that might pan out, he checks it out."

"Then that isn't even a valid way to search, is it?"

"I suppose not. I have no other ideas, Jo. He may not even be hunting. He didn't seem to be inclined to do so without Sam."

"Well, I don't have any ideas either." She moved a few things around on the dresser. "Finding him isn't going to be easy or fast. We might not find him at all."

"Are you being deliberately discouraging?"

It seemed to him that she paused a second before shaking her head. "No, just realistic. My mom was always better at tracking people down than me. I used to think she had some sort of supernatural power, but then I realized she just knew enough people that she could call in favors all the time. Without the information in our phones and in our heads, assuming it's all still there and hasn't been erased, it's an uphill battle. Are you sure you can't think of a single hunter who might have some information on him? Someone Raphael may have missed when rooting around your mind?"

"Sadly, no. Our best bet may be to work the cases."

"Mmm." She picked up his ruined cell phone and slipped it into the pocket of her jacket.

If he was reading that noise correctly, she wasn't thrilled about that idea. Knowing the things he knew about her, he wondered why. Hadn't she wanted to be a hunter a good chunk of her life? She was getting another chance to get back into it. Of course, he'd be completely useless to help her if they did that. He wasn't good with guns or knives and while he _could_ punch, it hurt. Castiel didn't like pain. He'd happily do without it. Hadn't he had enough physical pain during the past weeks of torture?

She reached for a pen and paper. "You can't go around in bloodstained clothes."

He looked down at his shirt. It did still have the bloodstains all over it. They were dried and crusty, the shirt stiff in places.

"Go in the bathroom and get me your clothing sizes. We need to get you a few things."

Castiel took the pen and small pad of paper Jo held out, hesitant to admit he hadn't listened to Dean's lecture on clothing and clothing care. At the time, he'd not seen a use for it since he'd been there with Dean and Sam and they'd taken care of everything for him. Besides, he'd assumed he'd get the same lecture again a dozen more times at least, like the one on personal space. That one had been Dean's favorite. However, time had run out. There'd been no more lectures after Sam fell.

A sliver of sadness pierced him. He hoped Michael was protecting Sam in the cage. After all, Sam had done what they'd wanted. He'd been obedient in taking Lucifer into his body even if he'd had different intentions than they'd planned for him.

"What?" Her tone was cautious.

He pulled himself free of the sadness and looked up at her. "You mean the numbers on the cloth pieces inside the clothes?"

"Uh-huh."

In less than ten minutes, they were out the door and walking down the street, Jo giving him directions all the while. Castiel relaxed. It was sort of like being around Dean and he found some comfort in that.

"Keep your coat closed until we get you a t-shirt or something. I should have picked one up the other day. Sorry. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

Their first stop was the AT&T store nearby. She spoke to the clerk, browsed the phones available, then chose two that apparently cost only a dollar. Having the clerk do a data transfer for both his mangled phone and hers cost more than the new phones by far. He hadn't realized they could transfer information like that, though he thought he should have with the number of times Dean and Sam switched phones.

When it was completed, she didn't check either, handing him one and slipping the other back into her jacket. "We'll take a look back in the room."

He resisted the temptation to check his phone, wondering why she wanted them to wait. As they walked towards another strip mall, he ventured to ask her that question. "Why are we waiting?"

"So we don't make some big scene in case we still can't access anything. I don't know about you, but I might just cry a little. Let's save it for the room."

"But…." A stern look from her stopped him from continuing. He supposed she had a point and if she did cry, he wasn't sure he'd know how to handle it in public _or_ private.

Their next stop puzzled him, as she didn't need pans, sheets, or towels. Jo led him around the store, finally stopping at a wall near the registers. He stared at the various strips of fabric on the wall. They were different shapes, sizes, and fabrics, yet all served one purpose: to block out light while one slept. Without tuning his head, he slid his attention to Jo.

She was scrutinizing the wall with an intense stare and annoyed frown. "Surely they didn't stop making them while I was dead? I was only gone a little over a year or so."

A woman passing by gave her a startled stare and continued on to the register.

"It's possible," he suggested.

With a non-committal grunt that was actually quite expressive of her thoughts on that, she stepped back and crouched down to see the bottom row better.

"Why do we need these again?" His stomach growled loudly as he eyed one that read 'the bitch is sleeping' and he wondered if perhaps that one might be the most appropriate for her. A few seconds later, he was embarrassed by that extremely unkind thought that had come out of nowhere and, in penance, crouched down to help her look. Not that he had any idea what he was looking for.

I'm hungry, he thought. That's what this sensation is.

He'd forgotten how unpleasant it was. He hated being hungry.

"Trust me. It's best to have one when you're consistently sharing a room with someone. We'll get earplugs, too."

"But why?" Dean and Sam hadn't had them.

"Because when I want to watch tv until three in the morning you'll be able to sleep."

"Oh."

They finally found the ones she wanted, at the very bottom behind cutesy eye masks that had feathers and glitter as decorations.

"Those there aren't real masks," Jo told him as she stood in triumph with two plastic cases in her hands. "Try sleeping with those and you'll get glitter and feathers in your eyes. These right here," she waved the cases around, "are the good ones. They have these shaped padded wells for your eyes and are totally adjustable."

"Which one is mine?" His stomach gave an insistent growl and a slight ache began to form in his temples.

"The brown one."

They were the same print, only one background was blue, the other brown. "I like the blue one."

"It's a girly blue. Brown is a more manly color. I'll use the blue one because -"

"Colors have no gender. I want the blue one. I like blue better." The argumentative words had slipped out before he could stop them.

"Castiel?"

"I prefer the blue one."

She frowned, studying him a long moment. "It's a sleep mask. No one but me is going to see it."

"I prefer blue as a color."

She raised her brows. "I like blue too. I picked different colors so we don't get them confused."

"Then you use the brown one. I want the blue one." It felt strangely gratifying to throw a tantrum over something stupid like this. He knew he shouldn't be, that Jo didn't have to buy him anything, yet he couldn't stop himself. It felt good to be childish in an attempt to get his way. Michael and Lucifer had thrown tantrums. Raphael had as well. In fact -

The realization that he was behaving rather like the archangels alarmed him, but it was far too late to back down.

She shook her head. "Castiel."

"Blue."

"You're acing like a child, like a little," she waved one hand at hip height, "toddler."

"Blue." Dean had compared him to a child a few times when lecturing on human behavior.

With a long sigh, Jo knelt, dug on the hook and came back with a second brown one. "There. Act like a child, I treat you like one. Neither one of us gets the blue. I'll write your name on yours with marker. Care to tell me why you're acting like this? You're a grown man…angel…man. What's with the temper tantrum?"

If he knew the reason behind what she called a temper tantrum, he'd tell her. Unfortunately, he had no idea why he'd had that outburst. "I have low blood sugar," he explained, using Dean's catchall excuse for grouchiness.

Jo sighed. "Why didn't you say so sooner? We would have stopped to eat first. Never mind. We'll get these, and if you don't mind keeping your coat closed, we can eat. If you do, we'll make one more stop."

"I don't mind."

With the tantrum over, he felt drained and very tired, following Jo to the register and then out of the store. His own behavior puzzled him. Calm one minute, raging the next. What was happening to him and how could he stop it?

* * *

Gwen had an ulterior motive in getting Bobby Singer alone. She wanted to pick his brain. "Dean and Sam say you're a pretty smart guy."

"I do okay."

His voice was gruff, reminding her that he had yet to warm up to her. He kept regarding her, Mark, and Christian with suspicion. Rightly so, she decided. He was like a father to Dean and Sam and had every right to wonder if they were being snowed. "They say you're good at finding information."

"If they say so."

She half turned in the seat. "They do and -"

"Better make sure you're buckled up. Sheriff likes to sit up ahead by the bridge."

A glance down at her lap confirmed she was, indeed, still buckled in. "I always wear my seatbelt." With Mark's driving, it was a necessity.

They passed a Sheriff's car, Bobby directing a wave towards it. Gwen didn't see if the driver waved back.

He sighed. "Well? Ask what you're wanting to."

"How do you find a demon? I mean a specific one. Finding any old demon is easy, but one in particular?"

He mulled over the question. "Depends. If you know it's name, you can call it, ask it to stop by for a chat. There are a couple rituals you could use for that. You know it's name?"

"Not it's demon name. I know it's called itself Harold and Chad."

"You ask Sam and Dean about this? They know everything I know about demons, from killing them to contacting them. They're a pretty good resource for you."

She shifted in the seat. "I talked to Sam. Our conversation was interrupted." Not before he'd told her to let it go however. She wanted a second opinion. Honestly, she wanted someone to tell her she had a chance at finding the demon who'd taken her friends and family away. Sam had refused to do that and she suspected Dean would tell her the same thing if she approached him about this.

"Okay. How about it's eye color? That'll tell you something about it immediately."

"It's eyes were black."

"Then it's a lower level, on the bottom tier, and one of the most common types. That doesn't narrow it down any."

"I know that."

"Do you?" He stopped at a stoplight and turned his head to look at her. "Don't be fooled into thinking the black eyes are all run of the mill. Their power levels vary. Some of them have some juice, like Meg I mentioned earlier. The only way she can challenge Crowley is because she's got some power. They have different powers or levels of those powers. Some black eyes can't cross consecrated ground, others can. Did yours give anything to identify itself at all? Name any names?"

"No, aside from the two male names it had used. He did his damage and disappeared. Haven't had a problem since."

"What abilities did it have?"

"Um…telekinesis."

"Anything else?"

"Not that I saw."

"Then frankly, Gwen, you're SOL unless he's dicking around with your life for a reason. I can guess that's not what you want to hear, but it's true. If that's the case, he'll pop up again some day and cause some more mayhem. If he'd had another color eyes, there might be a chance of narrowing it down, but there are too many black eyes out there both on earth and in hell."

"There's got to be some way to find the bastard, summon him -"

"You have nothing that identifies it. That means you have nothing period."

She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach as what he was saying registered. It was the same thing Sam had told her. She'd hoped he'd have something different to tell her, know something Sam didn't. "But I can't give up looking. He killed everyone." Her voice sounded small to her own ears.

"You might get lucky and run across it, but from what you just told me, luck is what it'll have to be because you've got squat."

"Or I might not run across it."

He nodded. "There's that. Keep in mind the sort of quest you're on can take everything from you. If you don't believe me, talk to Dean and Sam about it. They can tell you better than anyone what this kind of quest leads to."

The rest of the drive back she tried to hide her tears and when they returned, she went out for a walk alone to think over what he'd said.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Nine  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

He was behaving strangely. Jo hadn't really known Castiel before and even she knew this was strange for him.

"Please tell me you can use a knife and fork," she said, having visions in her head of having to teach him the most basic stuff. Hopefully Dean had already covered a lot of that ground. She'd hate to have to go over such stuff as hygiene and using a bathroom. It'd be humiliating for him and uncomfortable for her.

He was scrutinizing the knife and fork, holding them carefully in his hands. "Of course I can. Jimmy's muscle memory ensures that I am proficient at using both these utensils." He proved how proficient he was by trying to spear the meat twice before hitting it. A dull flush colored his cheekbones. "It appears that I'm slightly out of practice."

"Maybe you should let me cut it for you?"

"I can do it."

She watched him perform that task, his tongue caught between his teeth, and a look of extreme concentration in his eyes. "Sure. We'll finish here, then get you some clothes."

"Fine."

Jo dunked a chicken strip in honey mustard and ate it while considering what she'd learned about him thus far. Maybe she should just ask what his level of experience with human things was. It'd be easier than making a stab in the dark about what he did or didn't know. "Do you know basic things about living as a human? Showering, brushing your teeth, those sort of basics?"

His attention raised long enough for her to see the uncomfortable gleam in his eyes. "Dean went over showering and other, what he called private, matters. He included a lecture on 'alone time' in his talks on necessary skills."

"Alone time?"

Castiel glanced around the restaurant and leaned across the table slightly, voice lowering. "Self gratification, Jo."

A slight heat flared up on her cheeks. "Oh. That sort of alone time. Okay then." She looked down at her plate and picked up another chicken strip.

"There are other kinds of alone time?" There was a touch of panic in his voice.

Looking back up, she found him watching her with wide eyes and nodded. "Sure. You can spend time alone without doing that."

"Dean never said there were variations in the meaning."

"Depends on the person. Dean may well have had only the one meaning for that phrase."

"But when _you_ have alone time -"

"Castiel, this isn't really the sort of conversation you have in a public place."

"Oh. I apologize. We'll discuss the meanings of 'alone time' later."

She could practically see him mentally putting that into a column of appropriate conversational topics. "Yeah…."

He returned to his food, eating slowly. He wasn't even halfway done by the time she'd finished her own plate of food. Every so often he'd sit without moving, a hand pressed to his stomach or fingers rubbing between his eyes, a pained grimace on his face.

"Stomach troubles? Head troubles?" She sipped her coffee, making mental additions to her shopping list. It looked like they needed Tums or some other antacid, both tablet and liquid forms, and maybe acetaminophen in addition to the ibuprofen she'd already bought.

"I'm fine."

"Uh-huh." He totally wasn't fine. Jo turned her attention to the restaurant, checking out the people in there with them. Two men in suits a few tables down were watching them, staring rather rudely. Jo scowled at them. They looked at each other, then down at their table. She gestured at them. "Friends of yours? They've been watching us since we got here."

Castiel glanced their way and grimaced again. "Jo, I confess that I lied to you. I feel sick to my stomach. I might vomit."

Not a good thing to do in a restaurant. She reached for the wallet in her bag. "Think you can make it back to the room?"

"I believe so."

"Go on, I'll be right behind you after I pay."

The two men followed them out of the restaurant and if Jo hadn't been sure they were angels on watch before, she was now. They had that emotionless air about them that Dean had mentioned that day at Bobby's house. Plus, the whole following thing.

Once the door of their room was closed, shutting the two out, she felt better.

Castiel made a beeline for the bathroom and she waited for the telltale sound of puking. It didn't happen, though it sounded like he wanted it to from the moans and groans.

"Don't fight it, it makes it worse. Just let it come up. You'll feel better." That was what Ellen had always told her.

"I dislike vomiting."

"Right there with you. Sometimes you've gotta."

Slowly, she parted the curtain and peered outside. "Our two stalkers are right outside staring at our room."

"Huh?"

"The two men from the restaurant. The ones that were staring at us. They followed us here and are staring at our room."

"Raphael's goons. Maybe."

Her lips curled in sympathy as he made a sobbing noise. "Don't fight it, Cas."

"I'm not. Nothing comes up."

Releasing the curtain, she went to the bathroom door and peered in. He sat back against the wall, groaning again, his eyes closing. "I don't know what's wrong. The light hurts my eyes, Jo, and every noise makes my head feel like it's going to explode."

"Aww, hell." It was the mention of noise and light that suddenly clued her in to what the problem probably was. "Come on, let's get you up and on the bed." She crouched to help him up, keeping her voice nearly a whisper. "You lie down, put one of the sleep masks on, and just lay there until I get back. I'll try not to be long."

"What's wrong with me? Am I dying now?"

The question was so earnest, that she cupped his cheek gently. "No, sweetheart. You have a migraine headache, probably from how long it's been since your body had any food, but it could be other things. We can figure out any triggers for them later." As she helped him up, she continued, "Welcome to a fun part of being human. My mom got migraines sometimes, but hers weren't this bad. A strong cup of coffee usually did the trick for her. Somehow, I suspect you need more than that. I'll be back soon, okay?"

She returned as fast as she could, opened the bottle of migraine pills, and shook out two. He'd taken her advice and was lying down with one eye mask on. Jo got a glass of water and sat on the bedside. "Castiel? Here. Take these. You should feel better after awhile."

He sat up, removed the mask, and took them. When he'd finished the water, he handed her the glass. "Thank you. I wouldn't have known what this was or what to do."

A long sigh left her. "I know. This is what I'm apparently here for, right?"

"I…." He nodded. "Yes, I suppose so."

Jo picked up the book she'd been reading earlier. "I'll stay for awhile, then I'm going to finish our shopping. Let me know if you need anything."

Looking back, she wondered if his temper tantrum had been from the migraine beginning to form or something else. The next days or weeks were definitely going to be interesting.

* * *

"We need a plan of action." Dean reached for another beer and opened it. "We can't stay here all the time." Bobby would kill them if they did, especially with three other people hanging around.

"What do you want to do, Dean?" Sam swirled the dregs of his beer in his bottle.

There was temptation to tell him they were taking a vacation and, while that would be nice, their vacations were never real vacations. There was always something that popped up wherever they were. Besides, taking off for fun in the sun somewhere wouldn't get him over his trust issues with the cousins.

He considered all possible actions at present and couldn't see any way around it. They'd have to go out hunting as one big group. With his own reluctance to hunt, it'd be a detriment to Sam if it was just the two of them, so perhaps it would work as a group. He could watch the Campbells, try to get it into his head that they were different in reality, and they, in turn, could watch him. "Have Mark see what's out and about, try to catch something interesting."

"You sure? That'd mean trusting them to have your back."

"If they really do have my back, I might decide to trust them."

Maybe the best thing to do would be to try to get back to work. He needed something to take his mind off of everything and killing something evil should help with that. Briefly, he wondered if they could trap Crowley and Meg in a devil's trap and let them have it out. It'd take care of two birds with one stone, but he couldn't figure out the best way to do that. A basic hunt would have to do and a basic hunt meant going out with Gwen, Christian, and Mark.

Trust was definitely going to be a problem, especially if they were going to be hunting as a group. He simply didn't trust the cousins. Dean would admit that he was leaning towards trusting Gwen, was reserving judgment for Mark for when he actually did anything except research cases, but Christian was the one who still got his hackles rising.

He thought about the man. Pieces of the story Christian had given didn't sit right in Dean's gut. He considered the years it took to become a doctor and build a career and then the man's background. Dean had a hunch the hunting community hadn't let Christian go, not when a good doctor was a smart person to know. There were too few doctors available to hunters.

As he returned to the house, Dean decided to have a chat with Christian about what he did and didn't know about the current trend in hunting: namely the lynch mob Sam claimed was coming for them. If that part went well, he'd delve into the matter of the story.

Mark wasn't in any of the lower rooms that Dean saw. Perfect time to talk to Christian. He approached him, not bothering to beat around the bush. "What do you know about a lynch mob of hunters out to kill me and Sam?"

Christian looked up from Bobby's book with a distracted frown. "Excuse me?"

"Lynch mob, Christian?"

His glance slid to the windows. "Where?"

Dean suppressed a sigh, waiting while Christian marked his place in the book. "Sam's been through our contact lists. Most are either dead, not picking up, or want us dead. I know your contact lists have been depleted, too. Now, out of the three of you, I think you're the one who'd know something."

Christian shifted in his chair. "Me?" He set the book aside.

"Mm-hmm. See, Mark is too wrapped up in his pain to care about much of anything. He works to escape, but he's not one to talk to anyone but you, Gwen, and Sam. He defers to you and Gwen on people to contact and keeps to himself. As for Gwen, she's got her shiny search in her mind. She's focused on that. She's hinted that you three are sort of outside regular channels, sort of like Sam and I were when we first started looking for our dad."

He shrugged, lacing his fingers together across his stomach. "Sure. None of that's a secret. We don't have a lot of contacts these days. Having been out of the life -"

"Don't. Don't you lie to me. Not like you lied to them. You were never out of the life, Christian." That hunch paid off.

His head tilted back as if Dean had struck him. "Dean. You don't know what you're saying." Christian sat forward in the chair, looking towards the stairs, then the direction of the outer doors.

"I think I do. This, it makes sense. You're a doctor. A kid's doc, but still a doc. I'm betting a lot of people you grew up knowing in the community knew it too. No way they're letting a good doctor go. Any doctor for that matter. They came to you and it only looked like you'd left. I'm also betting it wasn't anything random or related to the apocalypse that killed your pregnant wife, was it? You just let Sam draw that conclusion."

"Dean, let me -"

"You moved around from city to city, practice to practice, barely long enough to have any sort of career." As he put his theory forward, he could see that he was right. It was all over Christian's face. "You didn't leave that last place fast enough. Something caught up with you and it just coincided with the apocalypse. They paid the price."

"I took an oath. Regular person or hunter, kid or adult, I took an oath to save lives. I couldn't turn away anyone and, for the record, my wife didn't want me to. She supported that decision and when that thing came for us she went out fighting with everything she had in her." Licking his lips, he shook his head. "What is it you're asking here? What's your overall question? Is it about a lynch mob or something else? Do you want to know if _I_ want you dead? If I did, you'd be dead. A man's got to sleep. I don't play around. I do my job, but I gotta say, I don't kill hunters unless they've gone off the deep end and are, I don't know, killing innocent people."

"Good to know."

"Even then, killing them is a last resort. It's not how I work and I don't know what your beef is with me since I never met you before Sam brought us to you."

"Maybe I just don't like you."

"Maybe, but that begs the question of why, due to us never having met. Not to mention you haven't exactly wanted to chat much."

"Personality conflict."

"Sure. That might be true." Christian nodded. "How did the Djinn portray me, Dean?"

He looked away, then back. "That what you think?"

"It is. Not hard to figure out. Some of the things you've said. Way you act, like you know us without knowing us and are wrong every time. See? You're not the only one who can put things together. So? What kind of man was I?"

"Complete dick. Confrontational. Judgmental. Angry. Possessed." Dean crossed his arms.

Christian rolled up his shirtsleeve, exposing his tattoo. "Knocks that part out. I got this before I went into medical school. No way I wanted a demon getting in me when I was going to have patients to look out for." Tapping a foot on the floor, he continued, "I won't deny sometimes being all those things you mentioned except possessed. Can you deny it yourself? Or are you the one special snowflake on this earth who never gets angry, judgmental, confrontational and completely dick-like? The truth now, Dean."

"Oh, I admit I can be that way."

"Then maybe you and I've got more in common than you think."

"Doubtful. How about we discuss that mob?"

"You want to talk the community? I can tell you it's not as big as it was. There's always new hunters and ones not even aware there's a network in addition to the old hats and sure, a lot of people know your names, though I believe plenty more don't and don't care. You and Sam may have done some things that led to certain global consequences, but factoring everything in, from the newbies to the out of network guys and so on, I'd say there's only a small group of hunters that'd just as soon see you in a dirt bath."

Dean considered that. Was Christian right? Was Sam's perspective of the situation skewed to one side and he was upset over nothing?

"Has Mr. Singer said anything to you about it?"

"No." He hadn't asked about it either. Sam had only just mentioned it.

"He seems to be fairly plugged in to the community, a lot more than me. If he hasn't said anything -"

"I trust Sam's judgment."

"So do I, but he had that nasty run-in with Walt and Roy something or other. It'll likely color his view for awhile. Look, maybe you should have Mr. Singer make some discreet queries. See what he can dig up. I can make a few calls too, if you like."

"Up to you." If Bobby didn't find anything, maybe it was nothing. Still, he didn't want to discount Sam's findings. The mob Sam thought was already formed may be merely beginning to form.

"Up to me," he repeated. "No, Dean, it's up to you. Do you want me to make calls?"

"Fine. Do it."

"As for my circumstances," Christian's voice lowered further, "You're right. Gwen believed I'd gotten out and hell, she needed to think someone else had made some kind of life, too. She needed to believe we had that in common." One shoulder shrugged. "Gwennie always was my favorite cousin. She acts strong now, but man…. She was a mess when I met up with her. Hysterical, angry, lashing out at everything and everyone. I did and said what was necessary to get her on her feet and moving."

"Oh, you're a saint."

"Nowhere near and you know it. The moving around part, though…. About me? Well, that's wrong. We pretty much stayed in one place, like Mr. Singer here. I did well enough and not too well in my studies, had to keep from getting anything other than average attention in my field. I did have a good life there." He picked the book back up. "My wife was a hunter. We'd known each other for years, played together when we were kids. She knew the risks and I…. I have no regrets about our life, though I miss her every day." He opened the book and looked down at it. "And maybe, possibly, I needed Gwen as much as she needed me. Let me know when you're ready to hunt something."

He'd told Gwen he'd talk to Christian and Mark and, with one talk down, Dean found he didn't really want to try talking to Mark yet. He needed time to process what he'd learned about Christian.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Ten  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

In search of a place to think, Dean headed outside only to find that Gwen was sitting by herself. He could hear her sniffles and was just about to turn around and go back in when he heard her soft, "Dean? Could I ask you something?"

He approached her, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. "Sure."

"Do you think it's stupid going after this demon?"

She looked tired and sad in the low light. Whatever talk she and Bobby had had in the car earlier hadn't helped her mood any. "No, I think it's human. Something kills the ones we love, we want it dead. Makes perfect sense to me."

"Bobby said you and Sam know where this quest leads."

"Sam didn't tell you?" At her negative nod, he joined her, sitting beside her. "When I was four, Sam about six months, a demon burned our mom to death on a ceiling. Our dad, he became a hunter after that, devoted his life to tracking down the son of a bitch."

"Did he?"

Ducking his head, he nodded. "Yeah. We found him. Killed him."

"You succeeded."

"Sure, but there was a price. Always is. That's one thing you can count on. You'll always have a price to pay. That hunt consumed our childhoods, our relationship with our dad, and with everyone around us."

"Sam and Bobby think I should let it go, leave it alone."

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think I want it dead. If your dad can find that demon -"

He held up a hand. "Hold on. Our demon was…different. You know Sam and I are archangel vessels? Well, Yellow-eyes, Azazel, was a servant of Lucifer. He came to manipulate Sam, get him ready for that and he had some other agenda, too." Sometimes Dean wondered about the Psy-kids and how that had connected if Sam was Lucifer's only true vessel. Were they like the poor guy who'd been Lucifer's vessel before Sam, off-shoots of their line a ways back? Who knew. Azazel had been sadistic. "Anyway, what he did was distinctive. We were able to find a trail. Wasn't easy. Took forever to learn his name. Ours was a special case, a specific attack for a specific reason."

She looked down at her clasped hands. "And mine is just an ordinary old demon."

"Maybe it recognized you as a former hunter and decided to play. It happens. Was there anything strange about the murders?"

"No. Nothing. Blood everywhere. Pieces…." A shudder wracked her shoulders.

"Think. Anything that didn't fit? Did he say anything, do anything, however small, that you might be able to compare to other murders?"

"I don't think so."

He thought a moment about things that could help her. "What about strange weather? It can be a sign. Go back over reports for that entire week before, two weeks even. Look for anything and everything that's off the slightest bit."

"No strange weather."

"Keep thinking. If you find something, then there's your first clue and you may be able to track it."

"There's nothing. I've been over it again and again."

If that was true, and she had nothing at all, then he hated to tell her the same thing Sam and Bobby had. However, nothing was nothing. Couldn't hunt a demon when there was nothing to identify it. "Then maybe Sam and Bobby are right. It sucks, I know. Not being able to kill it, make it feel as much pain as you are, bites the big one."

"I want revenge, Dean. I want it yesterday." Her voice broke on the words.

"I get that." He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand as he leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees. "Making your life all about revenge…. Man, Sam and I, we've been there. More than once. That life…it's selfish when you get right down to it."

"Selfish?"

She sounded like she didn't believe him. How did he get this through to her and make her understand? "It eats you alive, inside out. The more you search, the more desperate you get, and the longer it takes, the more you're eaten up. A circle. And eventually…. Eventually it makes you willing to sacrifice things you'd never have considered sacrificing before." He studied her, noted the slight vulnerable air about her. This was hurting her and it had to be done. "Now, I don't think you're selfish, Gwen. Not under it all. I don't think you have it in you and that," he pointed a finger at her, "that's a good thing. I think it's still early enough that you can walk away with your soul untainted, but you have to do it now before that want for revenge gets hooks deep in you and becomes a need. You don't want to go where that road will take you. Trust me. Just once, I'd like someone to learn from our lives and our mistakes."

"Dean." She rolled her eyes.

"I mean it. You said you want to learn from me? Then learn this. You don't want this road. Is it worth dying for? Is getting that demon going to be worth everything? Would all those people want you to die over their corpses or would they want you to let it go and live?"

"The latter, of course."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

"This is where I belong."

"Is it? How sure are you?"

"Very."

The determination was still in her eyes and he sighed. "Make sure you understand the consequences before you keep looking for it."

"Fine. I'll think about it." Her tone was exasperated and he decided to push her a little more on it.

"I'll bet thinking is all you've done, too. Every minute of every day backed with mental planning, going over every detail until it never fades. It's all still fresh. You see the blood like it's right there with you. Here's the harsh truth and nothing but. You listening?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"The road to revenge will destroy you, the end. It'll take every last thing you love and care about from you. It'll twist you around, chew you up, and spit you out. You'll look in the mirror and you won't like who you see and you don't want that."

"Your dad -"

"Died. He's dead and you need to decide if you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror the day after you kill that demon. If you can live with hating yourself for the rest of your days, well then, you just go on with your hunt. But if there's any doubt? End your search now."

She unclasped her hands, let them hang and stared down at them. "Giving up…it's quitting. It took everything."

Did she not see what was right in front of her? She had a lot more than she thought. Christian had given her the solid foundation she'd needed immediately after. Mark had been someone else to take care of and so, honestly, had Sam. They'd been there for her and now he was there, giving her the best advice he could give in regards to her circumstances.

Slowly, he leaned over and bumped her shoulder with his. "Not everything." When she looked up at him, he added, "You've got Christian and Mark. Sam." He bumped her shoulder again. "You even got me and I bet if you turn on the charm, Bobby'll warm up to you. He's not immune to a pretty face. Point is, you still have us."

"You accepting me as family, Dean?"

"I think I'll claim you. Jury's still out on the other two."

That got a small smile from her. "They're not bad guys."

"We'll see. So… What's say we hit happy hour and watch Mark work?"

"I'd like that."

As they went into the house, he realized he was telling the truth. He wanted to claim her as family.

* * *

When Castiel woke a few hours later, his head no longer hurt and he was genuinely refreshed from the drugged nap. He sat up. Laid out on the bed beside him were folded clothes and toiletries.

Jo wasn't in the room, so he got up to look at what she'd bought for him. There were two pairs of jeans, a heavy sweatshirt, a button-down in blue and dark purple stripes, pajamas, and a few t-shirts in solid colors. Most of the clothes appeared to have been previously owned, having a slight faded appearance. She'd bought socks and underwear in packages and there was a pair of running shoes on the floor. There was also a duffel bag like Sam and Dean carried, an electric razor still in the box, and the toiletries that were all lined up side by side.

Reaching out, he picked up the aftershave, opened it, and sniffed at it. He decided he liked the scent and smelled the rest of the items. He didn't care for the shampoo, but the soap was okay.

The door opened, Jo coming in, a take-out bag and drink container in her hands. She juggled the drink container and kicked the door shut with a foot. "Good. You're awake. How are you feeling?"

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and rested his hands on his knees. "Better, thank you. My head no longer hurts."

"Excellent." Setting the bag and container down on the table, she took her jacket off and sat down. "Come and get it. I got sandwiches and chips. Wasn't sure if you liked soda, so I got you a root beer to try."

"I like beer."

"Totally different thing. This is soda, not alcohol." Jo opened a paper wrapper and laid out a sandwich for him, then opened one bag of chips. "Regular chips for you, barbeque for me. You can try mine if you want."

Castiel joined her at the table and tried a sip of the root beer. It was sweet and good. "Did you look at our phones yet?"

"Um…no. I was busy."

Wasn't she curious? He was. If the information was there, they could go right away. It'd be a relief to find Dean without weeks or months of searching. "I'm going to look at mine."

"Go ahead." Her tone was nonchalant and she reached in her bag of chips, taking out a handful and setting a couple on his sandwich wrapper.

She made no move to retrieve hers from her jacket and he sighed with impatience. "Jo."

"What?"

"You said we'd look at our phones back in the room. We're here."

He could see the reluctance as she took her phone from one pocket of her jacket. "Okay, okay. Don't nag. You go first."

Hope rose as he checked through the phone. While he'd never had much data on it, Dean had occasionally added things for him, as had Sam and, once, Bobby. Disappointment quickly crushed that hope. The phone numbers were all ones and last names were gone. Swallowing hard, he tried to access his voicemail and found it inaccessible. All he heard was an error message.

Castiel slowly set the phone down. "Nothing useful."

Her expression changed, sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Castiel." She looked at her phone a long time, frowning as she worked. At one point, she put it to her ear like he had and he heard her sniff sharply when she brought it back down. "Me either. Plenty of first names, no last names, business names are gone, all phone numbers are ones, and a chunk of things are missing. I can't access my voicemail either. Now, with the amount of data the guy transferred, there should be more here, at least on my phone, which makes me think our minds have been altered to not be able to see the information. Can angels do that?"

"With ease."

"Which means they don't want us finding Dean or anyone else who can help us." She was nonchalant again, laying the phone down and reaching for her own soda to take a drink. "Eat up."

"Aren't you disappointed?" He wanted to punch the wall in frustration while she simply shrugged it off.

"Of course I am, but when it was obvious our minds were tampered with, I assumed whoever did it wouldn't miss the data on the phones. It was a wild shot. I never really thought we'd find anything we could use. "

"Oh."

She crossed her arms on the edge of the table. "Look, we need to take a couple days to get our bearings. We need to make plans and we can't go off half-cocked. We have to get to know each other, okay?"

"Yes." He agreed with that assessment.

"So let's eat our dinner, talk a little, watch some TV, and get some sleep."

The rest of the evening went well he thought, but when they went to bed (him on top of the covers and Jo under them), he couldn't sleep. Castiel laid there in the dark, listening to the sound of cars outside and finally, removed the eye mask. "Jo," he whispered. "Are you asleep?"

There was no answer.

He turned over and asked a little louder. "Jo? Are you asleep?"

She frowned and shifted position.

"Jo?"

It took ten minutes of asking if she was asleep before she sighed, removed her own eye mask and snapped, "What do you want?"

"I'm unable to sleep. I close my eyes and I begin to think of such things as the proper way to shave and if the growling in my stomach means I'm thirsty or hungry or something else. I was even wondering if the main character in that program we watched will find justice. Will he find justice? To be denied it after his search -"

"Castiel…." Her groan was annoyed.

"Yes, Jo?"

She rolled over to face him. "If you're that concerned over the storyline, we can look it up tomorrow. As for the growling, drink some water first. If it's still growling, eat a snack. Trust me, you'll know if it's neither of those things. How old is your vessel?"

"Thirties."

"Then it's probably the caffeine in the migraine pills keeping you awake. Sometimes caffeine in the afternoon or evening can keep you awake. You might be sensitive to it. It's either that or the nap from the pills. Don't worry about it. If you really can't sleep at all, then get up and watch TV or read a book until you're tired." Sitting up, she snapped on the light and reached for the plastic case that held earplugs. "I'm not staying up with you, so don't ask. Go to sleep when you're tired and don't wake me up again."

He nodded. "May I wake you if there is a fire?"

"Of course."

"A tornado?"

"Yes."

"An earthquake?"

"In West Virginia? Um, yeah…."

Castiel half turned away. "Flooding?"

"In the immediate area and only if it's threatening the motel."

"I may wake you for natural disasters?"

"Yes."

He didn't resist the urge to tease her a bit more on the subject. "What about matters of personal safety? If a person attempts to break in to our room?"

"Uh-huh. That's acceptable."

"What if a demon bursts in? Or some other creature? Must I deal with it alone or may I wake you then for…back-up?"

She blinked, appeared to realize he was teasing her, then snorted and shook a finger at him good-naturedly. "You're ornery, that's what you are. Use common sense, Castiel. Let me sleep unless it's an emergency."

Soon she was back asleep and he was, for all intents and purposes, alone. Castiel turned on the TV and found a familiar program on one channel. He'd watch Dr. Sexy, M.D. for awhile. Maybe, somewhere, Dean was watching it, too.

* * *

After a rocky start and that weird bout of teasing from Castiel (he'd had a twinkle in his eyes and everything), Jo had managed to get a good night of sleep, which would help with everything she needed to get done. She kept her eyes closed as she took off the sleep mask and stretched, mentally running through her list for the day. When she had a plan cemented, she opened her eyes and immediately screamed to find Castiel's face inches from hers. He was sitting on the floor staring at her.

"What are you doing," she gasped, clutching the covers to her.

"Waiting for you to wake," he replied.

"Uh-huh. 'Cause sitting staring at a person inches from them while they sleep isn't creepy at all."

He cocked his head. "I've showered, shaved, and made coffee. I'm ready for the day. Shall I pour you coffee now?"

Jo groped for the alarm clock and looked at it. "It's barely seven."

"I'm no longer tired. You told me to go to sleep when I was tired. I did and woke after a few hours."

Great, she thought. How could he not be a morning person? "New rule: you don't ever sit close like that and watch me sleep again. I mean it. Never ever."

He blinked twice. "Dean said that as well a couple times."

"And it didn't occur to you not to do that to me?"

A frown creased his brow. "I thought personal space rules were different between men and women?"

"They are, but…. We'll talk about that later."

"Jo, I _am_ sorry if I've made you uncomfortable." He got up and moved to a chair. "Is this better?"

"You know what? Amendment to the rule: don't watch me sleep at all."

"Oh. I apologize."

Tossing the covers aside, she got out of bed. "I'm going to shower. You just…stay out here."

Going into the bathroom, she found a mess. He may have showered and shaved, but he'd managed to make the bathroom look like a tornado had hit. There were hairs in the sink from when he'd shaved, toothpaste smeared on the counter, and a puddle of mouthwash around the mouthwash bottle. The only towel left that wasn't soaked was a small one barely bigger than the washcloth. The rest were tossed everywhere and the shower curtain wasn't tucked in to the bath. The bathmat was sopping wet. Jo pinched the bridge of her nose and realized she needed to cover both cleaning up after himself and common courtesy when sharing a motel room as soon as possible.

Funny, she would have thought Dean had discussed at least the sharing a motel room thing with him. Or Sam had discussed it.

Over breakfast later, she went over those along with a few other things, to which he slumped back in the booth and said, "Humanity is complicated. There are rules for everything."

"You said Dean and Sam taught you some things."

"Obviously not enough. I'm unprepared for living a human life, Jo. I can't do things like cook or -"

"You can't?"

"No. They never taught me. I can, of course, order a meal and buy prepared items from a store. Sam took me through a salad bar once and I've had lessons on eating, some money matters, and personal space."

"Not enough on the personal space," she muttered, then raised her voice back to conversational levels. "Cooking is following directions. Look, the important things are good hygiene, common courtesies, dressing appropriately, and not pissing off guys bigger than you unless you're certain you can kick their ass."

"When put like that, it sounds rather like being an angel apart from the hygiene matter. Don't step on toes in other departments or your own, make sure your vessel is dressed well, and don't make an enemy of an archangel."

"You're part of the way there already." She smiled at how he'd related humanity and being an angel. If he could keep doing that, it'd be easier for him.

"Your attempt to lighten the realization of the fullness of my inadequacies is appreciated."

"You're welcome. Relax. I want you to watch TV some more today while I run some errands. You have my number. We've got text on these phones, so text me whenever you have a question."

She saw him back to the room, made sure he understood how to text, and headed out on her errands, trying to ignore the angel tailing her. She wasn't even being subtle, but Jo gritted her teeth and ignored her. With any luck, the preparations she was making would work and she and Castiel would have some breathing room soon.


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Eleven  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Samandriel had been thinking a lot the past couple days, about duty and sacrifice, and family. He'd considered how those three things could intertwine. He'd perused the history of the Winchester brothers and studied the two in an attempt to see how human brothers behaved. The conclusion he came to was that perhaps the angels should have the sort of devotion to each other as Sam and Dean Winchester had displayed.

When he had a moment alone with Rachel, he stepped close to her. "We have to help Castiel."

She glanced around and put the face of her vessel close to his. "How do you propose we do that? If we help him both Raphael and Naomi will know about it. I don't know about you, Samandriel, but I can't afford to be on Naomi's bad side, not with Raphael looking to kill all of us who sided with Castiel. She could hand us over at any time."

"We said we were allies, but what have we done? When trouble came, we ran. We were too afraid of Raphael to stand up for what we believe in, for what Castiel was trying to accomplish. We asked Naomi for asylum instead of standing with Castiel when he needed us. We let him end up where he is, Rachel. We abandoned him."

"We tried -"

"No, we didn't. Not really. We called ourselves friends and family and we practically handed him over without a fight at all. We may as well have done this to him ourselves."

She looked away and he saw the struggle on her face before she nodded. "What do you want to do? And how do you expect to pull it off?"

"We arrange a distraction and help Castiel and the woman escape. We hide them long enough for Raphael to lose sight of them. Castiel is as good as human now. Once the two are in a crowd, away from sight, and surrounded by humans, the guards won't be able to pinpoint them quickly. It'll take time and give them time to escape, put some distance between them and the guards."

"Because that'll be so easy." Her sarcasm was almost palpable. "You make it sound like nothing. You sound a lot like Castiel did."

"Does, Rachel. He's not dead. Next, we find Dean Winchester and hide him so he can't be used against them."

"Again, easy."

"Rachel."

She sighed. "I'll attempt to locate Dean Winchester and if I find him, will hide him as Castiel hid both he and his brother once before."

"Thank you."

"If he has others with him? People he keeps company with?"

"Use your best judgment. I'll work on finding some sort of distraction that can't be traced to us."

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"Maybe, but at least I'll die trying to do the right thing. I'll die being the sort of angel I should have been before."

He watched her go and tried to think of a distraction of some kind, but he was at a loss as to what would work the best. This wasn't his specialty, but he forced himself to think the way the Winchester brothers and Castiel did.

* * *

Bits and pieces.

Dean laid in bed in a motel room and thought about the Djinn dream and the things that had been in it. It was fading now, those bits and pieces that had been the strongest when he'd woken. He found he could barely remember the little parts, like the alpha creatures.

Were there such things in reality? The Djinn would know if there was an alpha creature for themselves and it wasn't far-fetched to think they'd mix that in for a little bit of realism. The more realism added to it, the more he'd believe it _was_ real. The same with the Mother of All. Had he dreamed of her? He couldn't quite bring it back into focus. Something about dragons….

The things that stayed with him were those betraying moments. Sam soulless. Castiel lying to him. Bobby never telling him Sam was topside. Lisa implying his bond with Sam was a terrible thing.

He sighed, listening to the sound of the shower. Sam had just come back from an early morning run with Christian. They'd driven seven hours from Bobby's for a case and spent a few hours the previous evening working on it. Today would show them all how well they worked together.

Rolling over, Dean reached for his phone and looked at his email. Some of the little things they could check, those things he thought were real that the Djinn had included to give that dose of realism. Alpha creatures. Mother of All. Dragons. Was there really a Dr. Visyak? Purgatory? Maybe when they finally heard from Castiel he'd ask him some of those questions.

The longer without some sort of word from Castiel, the more Dean found himself worrying about him. He hoped that nerdy little angel was okay.

The bathroom door opened, Sam coming out fully dressed. "I thought you and I could talk to the cops, let Gwen and Christian take the victims' families and witnesses, and Mark can coordinate the information."

"Coordinate?"

"Keep a running board of details. Let us all know when new information comes in."

"Why not have him out with Christian and Gwen? Or us?"

"He likes putting the pieces together. Not that he can't do the other stuff, it's just what he's good at."

"How about we mix it up? You and Christian take the cops, I go with Gwen on the victims' families and witnesses." He sat up, smothering a yawn.

When Sam replied, it was with a dry tone. "If you really want to mix things up, then you should work with Christian today. You and Gwen seem to get along already."

"True, but I need to see how we work as a team."

"Dean, you need to work with Christian some time."

"Next case. Promise. Let me get used to Gwen. If she has my back the entire way today and however long this takes, I'll move on to Mark or Christian." He got out of bed and began gathering his clothes for the day. "I was thinking…. Do you think that all the monsters came from one source? Like a single mother created them?"

"A single mother? You mean a counterpart to Lucifer as the father of all demons only a mother of all monsters?"

"Yeah." He stepped laid his clothes on the end of the bed.

"Maybe?" Sam shrugged. "I never thought about it. I think there may have been one in mythology somewhere. Greek? Roman?"

"Might be worth looking into." He watched Sam gather a few things together: cell phone, notebook, pen. Whenever he looked at Sam, he saw Sam and though he searched, there was no sign of that Djinn creation.

Sam looked up and saw him watching him. "You okay?"

"I'm good. Breakfast in twenty?"

"We'll be at Denny's."

"Again?" He was getting sick of Denny's. It was the one place Mark always wanted to go.

"It's close."

"Yeah, whatever." He closed the door and started the shower, then looked at himself in the mirror. Dean didn't feel as off-kilter as he had, but he didn't feel completely like hunting either. Maybe he'd let Gwen take the lead, see how she did.

He nodded to himself. It was a plan.

* * *

They were ready. As ready as Jo could make them, that is. Her plan was iffy if the angels were on the ball, but from what Castiel had said, she suspected they _weren't_ on the ball. She was pretty sure they were arrogant enough to think she and Castiel wouldn't try what they were going to shortly.

Jo wasn't worried. Not really. What was the worst that could happen? Raphael could give her a lobotomy and she wouldn't be herself again? But that could happen only if they got caught and she didn't plan on getting caught. At the very least, she'd sacrifice herself to get Castiel free. He was fully capable of searching for Dean on his own, whether he realized it or not. At best, they'd both be free from the angels and would carry on searching together. For awhile anyway.

She shoved the last of her toiletries into her bag and checked to make sure they had everything before dragging a chair in front of Castiel, sitting, and saying, "Okay, let's blow this place."

He stared at her a moment, then said in an earnest tone, "Jo, we have no explosives or supplies to make them. Not to mention there are innocent people on the premises. Blowing it up is not advisable."

She couldn't hold back a small smile at that comment because it was _so_ him. Reaching out, she cupped his face with both hands. "You are annoyingly adorable…and adorably annoying."

"Is that a compliment?"

She laughed. "Sure. What I mean is let's leave. Find another motel." Jo released him and stood.

"Our guards _will_ follow. You're aware of that?"

"I'd rather be somewhere on our dime than Raphael's. We've had enough of her brand hospitality I think. Get your things. I found a great motel while I was out the other day."

'Great' was stretching it, but it got Castiel moving.

"Is there a pool?"

"A pool?" Why on earth was he asking that? He'd never shown any interest in pools before.

He shouldered his bag and nodded. "I'd like to see if I can swim. Jimmy knew how and enjoyed swimming when he had a chance."

"No, no pool. It's pretty rare that I find a cheap enough motel that has a pool and if they do, you seriously don't want to actually go in it."

"Oh. Dean and Sam rarely stayed at motels with pools either. I'd like to if we can. Swimming is an excellent exercise." His gaze slid down her, then away, a dark flush spreading across his cheeks. "You could swim as well."

She had to wonder if he was imagining her in a swimsuit. "Maybe."

He chatted on the walk, his conversation focused on a show they'd watched the previous evening, the weather, how difficult shaving was, and the fact that he thought the underwear she'd bought him was too small.

She didn't comment on the underwear topic since he was the one who'd given her the sizes. Jo was glad when their new motel came into view, even though she had to prod Castiel forward once he got a good look at it. He didn't say anything and she was sort of looking forward to his reaction once they got inside a room.

The motel she'd chosen was one that might have the angels scratching their heads and likely deciding she was simply a stupid human who didn't understand how much better Raphael's arrangements were. Still, she didn't think they'd forcefully move them back.

They'd see very soon just what the angels were going to do.

* * *

While Castiel had to admit that he was easily distracted since waking back on earth, nothing could distract him from their new motel.

Jo's 'great motel' was roach infested, with a smell in the air that Castiel couldn't identify, a carpet that was so sticky that his shoes made crunching noises as he walked, and a water spot that indicated the ceiling was about a day from caving in. It rented by the hour and to checkout, one left the key on the dresser and the door open.

Her criteria for motels appeared to be far lower than Dean's. Had something been damaged in her brain aside from the loss of a few names, addresses, and phone numbers? How was this better than the other motel? Castiel felt like he should know what her plan was; that he was missing a crucial thing.

"Jo?"

As soon as she shut the door, she grabbed his arm. "Don't set anything on the bed or go near it. Pretty sure there are bedbugs. Set everything on the dresser and don't open anything or we'll get roaches in our stuff."

"I don't understand why we're here." He eyed one corner by the ceiling. Was that a bat on the wall?

"You will. Anything we can use to keep the angels from hearing us? Maybe something to keep them from barging in?" She pulled a can of spray paint from her bag and held it out to him.

"There are a few things we can use." He painted the symbols in various places, pleased that knowledge remained intact. Then, he turned back to Jo. "Explain."

"Now that we have privacy, I will. We need to shake off our angel guards because I'm not wandering the country with them on our tail. How do we do that? There's got to be something. I vaguely remember Dean talking about a symbol back at Bobby's before Carthage, but that's all I remember. What was he talking about? You do know, right, because if you don't, we're totally screwed and coming here was for nothing."

She wanted information and he was happy to oblige her and to be _able_ to oblige her. It seemed odd that Raphael hadn't had this knowledge taken from his mind along with the other things. What was Raphael's game? Why take some information and leave what was far more important? "The banishing sigil. We use it to send them back to heaven and while they're gone, we leave."

"Yup. What do we need? Tell me." After he'd finished his explanation, she nodded. "Good. Now, how sure are you that you're not an angel anymore?"

The casual attitude from earlier was gone and she was focused and almost brisk in manner. "Completely. None of my angelic abilities work. I'm stripped of them all."

"You think you've become human. You're sure? On a scale of one to ten, with ten being full on angel of the Lord and zero being totally human, where would you rate yourself?"

Castiel thought about it a moment since she seemed to want him to. "I've said I believe I'm human. I'm sleeping, eating, experiencing emotions. Those are human things. Angels do none of those, experience only slight emotions. I'd say perhaps a one at highest."

"Huh. A one." Her teeth grazed her lower lip. "Why a one?"

"Because I'm uncertain if losing abilities is temporary or if I have some sort of latent ability remaining. One is a caution." One was a hope.

"What if you're becoming some sort of hybrid? A new sort of angel and this is a chrysalis period like a caterpillar goes through?"

Did she miss where he said he had no angelic abilities? "I'm fairly certain Raphael wouldn't leave me with anything faintly angelic to work with."

"He left you these symbols and it hasn't even been a full week. You don't know what's happening to you for sure and screw Raphael. Like he -"

"She. She burned through her male vessel beyond even an archangel's ability to repair. She broke him too far to maintain him as a vessel. He died the second she left him."

"Fine. She. The point I'm getting at is that we don't know for sure what part of angel you have left in you, if anything. I'm hesitant to have you do what's necessary if it could send you right back up there because Raphael might decide to simply kill you instead of sending you back down here and if she did send you back, it'd be with a further scrubbing of your mind and of mine."

"I still don't understand why we came here to this," he glanced around the shabby room, "establishment. We could have done this at the other motel."

"No, sweetheart, we couldn't." She pointed at the window along the back wall. "I spent the past couple days scouting motels for one that had windows at the front and back of the rooms. You have to find the really old, crappy, about to be torn down places to get that. You're going out the back window with our things and to the bus station several blocks down. Wait for me there, but no longer than an hour. I'm going to draw them in through the front, get rid of them, and follow you."

"We'll take the bus somewhere."

"No. Don't worry, I have it planned."

"But you're not going to tell me."

"Not until I'm sure we can get out alone. If they've thought to have someone at the back too, we're in trouble. We have one shot at this because if they catch us, we won't be escaping again. You know that."

"I'm aware that the odds are against us, but as Dean and Sam repeatedly beat the odds, I believe we have a shot." Dean had used that phrase 'have a shot' several times.

She pulled a roll of bills from her pocket and pressed it into his hand. "Here. This is half of what we have. If we get separated, you'll have something to spend for food and shelter for a short while."

Castiel pocketed the money. "We won't become separated."

"If we do -"

"No. You will send them away and meet me long before the hour is up. We will prevail." He swallowed hard, not liking the way his stomach had begun churning, but knowing it was normal in a situation like this because he'd felt it before. It was fear. Fear he was wrong. Fear Jo would be caught and hurt. Just plain fear. "I'm ready when you are."

With a sigh, she took a knife out of her bag. "For the record, I really hate blood spells of any kind."

When the symbol was drawn and Jo knew what to do, Castiel set the timer on his phone and headed out the window. Every stranger he came into contact with on the way to the bus station was a potential angel, every shadow a spy, yet he made it without incident. Setting their bags down, he drew out his phone and watched the minutes tick by with dread like a blanket about him.

* * *

Accepting this assignment to head the guard on Castiel and Jo had been stupid. Laurel knew it and yet she'd gone ahead and done it. She'd helped kick Castiel out of heaven, laid him in that motel room with the woman, and let herself be promoted when she'd known full well that nothing good would come of it.

She hurried to Naomi's domain, having merely a minute to give her a report before Raphael arrived to view the motel room. As she made her way towards Naomi's office, the heart of her vessel pounding hard in her chest, she found Samandriel and grabbed him. "I need you to take a report to Naomi. I can't be gone long."

"Wait -"

"No. I can't. I messed up! Samandriel, tell her that Castiel and Jo Harvelle are gone."

Surprise glinted in his eyes. "Gone? You mean -"

"They lured the guards close and worked a banishing sigil. By the time we got back there, they were gone and we can't find them. They've disappeared."

A frown appeared on his vessel's face. "How? Didn't Raphael have Castiel's memories cleared of his angelic knowledge?"

She hesitated long enough that she was sure he saw her guilt. "It was ordered, never completed."

"Laurel, you can't go back down there."

"I have to. I can't give Raphael any excuse to look into who I've associated with in the past. She'll see all of you and Naomi and she'll know I was working for Naomi instead of her. She'll tear heaven apart to kill Naomi. We can't let that happen." She'd been trained to protect Naomi's office at all costs, even personal. With only Raphael remaining, it was important that Naomi's office be kept hidden and safe. "Tell her, please."

Returning to the scene, she found Raphael already there, pacing and angry. With a wave of Raphael's hand, the seven angels standing there flew away, panic in their movements. "You let them leave the first motel, the one we chose for them."

"We didn't see the harm in them having some freedom of movement. We were watching them."

Glass from the half-shattered window sprinkled the pavement and the door to the room hung on one hinge.

"Not well enough."

"We were never told to keep them in one place. It was never said they couldn't have a choice of motel."

Raphael's lips pursed.

"I personally followed Jo whenever she left the motel." She winced, understanding that the admission didn't help her case with Raphael. "She walked. It never looked like she was doing anything but walking. I had no idea -"

Raphael stood near the open door, hand raising and pointing. "They talked and made plans and you let them. You let them keep you out."

"The symbols -"

"A well-placed rock through that window would have broken the hold on this wall."

"There are other symbols below the window, painted on the wall itself," she protested, her hands shaking. Her vessel had often had panic attacks in her life and she realized she was on the verge of having one now. There was no way she was going to survive this, was there? "You can see them from the back window."

"You let them check in to a motel with windows along two sides and then didn't post guards on both sides. It's almost as if you wanted them to escape."

"Of course not! I'd never -"

Raphael moved to stand beside her. "You're not the angel I thought you were. I'd had such high hopes that you were up to this task, as you'd performed admirably to this point, but I see I was mistaken. Your incompetence astounds me. Tell me how it happened. How did they escape us?"

"Apparently, Castiel went out the back window while Jo lured the two guards over by claiming you'd told her to have them help her if she had trouble with Castiel. She claimed she needed their assistance. They believed her and were sent back to heaven where they found me. We returned here to discover them gone. We have no idea where they went."

"You failed me, Laurel. You let Castiel get away."

"I'm sorry. I am. It won't happen again."

For a moment, she thought Raphael might let her live, but then she saw the glint of the blade in her hand and both thought and life ceased. Laurel died, splayed out on the ground before the open motel room door.


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twelve  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Escaped. Samandriel could barely contain a grin as he waited for everyone to arrive for a meeting. When everyone was present, he stood before them. "I have news." Samandriel looked at the gathering of angels, all allies of Castiel's and a few who now professed interest in the cause.

"Don't keep us in suspense," Rachel drawled. She'd begun her search for Dean Winchester and had covered the Eastern third of the United States so far. Her search was slow going. Finding one person out of the entire population of the United States was no easy task even for an angel.

"Castiel has escaped Raphael's guards. They can't find him."

A muted cheer went up among them, loud enough to convey their joy in that news, yet not enough so that it'd be noticed by Naomi and her staff.

Naomi hadn't been happy with the news, though not as displeased as Raphael. At least Naomi wasn't out in heaven right now throwing tantrums like a human child. She was holed up in her office with some of her close staff making new plans. In Samandriel's opinion, it was critical that Rachel find and hide Dean before Naomi found him and tagged him. Or Raphael thought to.

"He needs us. He'll definitely need us when Raphael finds him. We need to gather more angels, find out who will support Castiel in light of his continued resistance to Raphael."

"How do you propose we do that?" Inias leaned forward in his chair.

"Tell them all that even powerless he's fighting." A low murmur began in the group and he let that sink in before continuing. "He's lost everything and still he resists Raphael's tyranny. Should we continue to stand by and do anything less?"

Noelle, one of the first to support Castiel, raised her hand. "This is a radical idea I know, but…we could contact the Lost Brethren. They're a resource we can't ignore."

The Lost Brethren were a touchy subject to many. They were angels who'd fled heaven when Lucifer and Michael had fallen into the cage together, a full garrison of angels that had turned their back on heaven. They ignored orders to return, killed those who tried to bring them back, and seemed determined to live on earth as if they were human. In interactions they'd claimed to want to be left alone. They'd leave heaven alone if heaven would leave them alone.

They were a thorn in Raphael's side. She had coined the term 'Lost Brethren' for them, an implication that they were gone forever. They, however, called themselves Gabriel's Garrison, in honor of Gabriel's sacrifice and death. As Raphael had no idea which angels had joined Gabriel's Garrison, they didn't get their powers removed like Castiel had. Raphael hadn't bothered to take names when killing Castiel's followers and because of that, this garrison was a problem. She'd shot herself in the foot by not recording deaths. Few of their names were generally known and Samandriel wasn't entirely sure they didn't have a spy up here in heaven somewhere.

It wouldn't surprise him. Everyone had spies anymore. Zachariah had begun that trend with Michael's blessing and it had grown out of control.

What did Naomi think of Gabriel's Garrison? She'd never said anything to anyone about them, merely making noncommittal noises when they were mentioned. She acted like they weren't even worth her time. Maybe they weren't, but they were potential allies, angels who didn't like what Raphael was doing. If Castiel's remaining allies could utilize them, then they should.

"Good idea, Noelle."

"One of us should leave here and contact them, work on them, try to get them to join us. They say they honor Gabriel and I think we can relate what Gabriel did to Castiel's actions. I think we have a chance of making them allies."

"Are you volunteering?"

For a second, she seemed uncertain, then her back straightened and she nodded. "Yes. I know a couple of them. I volunteer to approach them and attempt to work out an agreement."

Did she now? Perhaps his idea that they had a spy in heaven wasn't far-fetched. "Do you know where they are?"

"I know where Nia is. She's rumored to be their leader right now, since Azariel was killed."

Azariel had been one of Castiel's friends and had only recently been killed. One angel Raphael had known about and actively hunted down.

He looked at the rest of them, most in vessels, a couple in their natural forms. They were looking at him like he was leading them, when all he was doing was trying to get the resistance back off the ground so that Castiel would have support when he needed it. "Do it. Report back if you can."

Noelle was gone in less than a second and he dismissed the clandestine meeting with a reminder to Rachel to hurry in her search.

* * *

"You think dragons are real?"

Sam stirred his salad and suppressed a sigh. Dean was like a dog with a bone with the Djinn dream stuff, worrying it about and trying to figure out what was real out of the little details. Sam would have wanted to forget it and move on, but not Dean. He was pulling it apart and driving Sam nuts in the process. "You mean big, scaly, mythological dragons?"

"The kind that hoard gold and like virgins for an afternoon snack." Dean ate a slice of pizza. It was his fifth. He was working his way through the kinds on the buffet and Sam reflected that it was nice to see him getting his appetite back.

Mark was back at the motel trying to recover from having been thrown against a wall several times, Gwen was off in her own room taking a long bubble bath to relax (or so she'd claimed), and Christian was still going through the line, having come in after Dean and Sam had started eating. They still weren't sure exactly what it was they'd been hunting except that it had a definite aversion to being caught and killed. The creature had fled and Sam had added the basic details of the case to a notebook with a reminder to himself to study more on it later. Bobby was too busy right now to help them on this, so they'd have to do their own research.

"I have no idea, Dean."

"Me either. Be cool though, wouldn't it? Finding a stash of their gold? I looked up the doctor, too." He sucked a long drink of soda through his straw.

"The doctor?"

"Yeah, she's not real. No Eleanor Visnak anywhere. At least nothing on Google or anywhere else I checked. I did find a Dr. Visnak, only it's a 'he' and has nothing to do with dragons. The title appears to be honorary, too. Bobby doesn't know the guy or any doctor that's into dragons or has a sword in a stone in the basement."

Sword in a stone? Did he want to know the details? No, Sam decided. The details didn't matter because it was a dream, but no matter how many times Sam told him none of it was real, Dean persisted in thinking about it all. He persisted in acting like it had been real in some way. Sam ate a few bites of salad while Dean stuffed the last bit of pizza in his mouth. After swallowing, Sam wiped his mouth and said, "You asked Bobby about a made up person from your dream?"

"Sure. He doesn't think dragons are real, but he'll see what he can find."

Is that the project Bobby was working on? Dean's imaginary dragons? Sam swallowed his irritation at that. "Why do we need to know about dragons?"

"Why not? You got something against dragons?" Getting up, Dean headed back to the buffet line.

Sam stirred his salad again and stared out the window. Should he call Bobby and tell him to forget about looking into the dragons or let it go? It was sort of a waste of Bobby's time. He glanced at the line. Dean was piling slices of pizza on two plates and seemed almost happy.

Where did they go from here? There was always the war over hell to look into or the angelic dropouts. Should they try to track the creature they'd tried to kill here or go after something else? He wasn't really sure what to do. They needed to keep moving, keep doing something to solidify them all as some kind of team even if they decided to part ways. After months of having worked with Gwen, Christian, and Mark, Sam didn't want to go separate ways. He liked having more than Dean to count on. He liked them.

A plate was set down in front of him.

"Here. I got you some of that Hawaiian pizza crap you like." Dean returned to his chair, putting his own plate on the table.

"It's not crap."

"Pineapple doesn't belong on pizza. Meat belongs on pizza."

Christian pulled up a chair. "I've got to side with Dean on that one, Sam." He sprinkled red pepper flakes on his pizza. "What are we discussing, aside from pizza?"

"Monsters." Sam tried the pizza. He happened to like pineapple on his pizza and this place made a good Hawaiian pizza.

Since the cousins had had Dean's back the past two days, Dean was much more relaxed around them, though he still exchanged the occasional odd insult with Christian, who obliged in kind. The previous day, the two had been going back and forth about lists and who was or wasn't on a particular side, mentioning names, many of whom Sam didn't recognize. When he'd asked what they were doing, the two had clammed up and said they'd tell him later if it panned out.

At least it wasn't more of the Djinn stuff. He thought anyway. The way it was going however, he wouldn't be surprised to find it _was_ Djinn stuff.

"What kind of monsters?" Next came the hot sauce. Christian poured it on with a liberal hand.

"The mythical kind," Sam told him.

"Dragons," Dean clarified.

"Huh. Be interesting if they were real. A pile of gold would be sweet."

With a smirk, Dean spread his arms, palms up. "I know, right?"

Sam shook his head and returned to eating his salad.

* * *

It wasn't hard to see Jo's exhaustion, but Castiel had learned not to comment on it. They'd been traveling non-stop for two days, moving from one method of travel to another. She hadn't allowed them to sit idle for more than a few minutes, determined to get as much distance as possible between them and that location in West Virginia.

His suggestion that she sleep on their journey had been met with a curl of her lip and a refusal, like she thought he couldn't keep watch. She'd gotten by with dozing every few hours. It reminded him of how Dean had been right before they'd put together the plan for Sam to say yes, yet he had no idea how to discover what was going on in her mind.

"This motel is much nicer than your last choice." Castiel set his bag on one bed, while Jo closed the curtains.

"That one had it's purpose. I don't think we were followed." She smothered a yawn.

"Me either. What do we do now?"

Sinking into one chair, she stretched her legs out and eased her boots off. "Beats me. I was more concerned with getting away from them than in anything long-term. Why don't you figure something out while I go take a bath?"

"If you like."

"I do."

He watched her get her toiletry kit and go into the bathroom with it, clothes, and the thick book she'd picked up at that last truck stop. How did he decide a direction for them? What would Dean do? How would Dean go about this?

After much consideration, Castiel counted the money Jo had given him before they'd fled and left the motel. He returned awhile later with a sack full of tabloids and major papers from around the country. Without a computer, this would have to do. Surely he could find something they could work on until they had a lead on Dean.

Occasionally, he'd sit silent and listen for the sound of Jo humming. She tended to sing or hum when in the bath or shower. Dean had sometimes sung as well, only he was always off-key. Jo had a nice singing voice.

When she left the bathroom, fully dressed, Jo was uninterested in his idea. She shrugged. "Whatever. Will you be okay for a few hours?"

"I've been okay the several times you've left me alone already. You're going out?" He peered at her, noticing that she was wearing makeup and had done something to her hair. He wasn't sure what, but it looked pretty. Should he say anything?

"Mm-hmm."

"I'll order a meal if I'm hungry." While Jo had given him a percentage scale for tipping, he'd already known the basics according to Sam ("These people work hard, so be as generous as you can.") and Dean ("Don't give them any reason to spit in your food or worse.").

"About that…." She pulled her boots on. He was relieved that the bath appeared to have revived her somewhat. "We're running low on funds, so if you can get by with what we've got in the way of snacks, I'd appreciate it. I'm going out for a few hours to drum up some money. We need to economize on cash."

"May I accompany you? I wish to observe your methods."

She reached for her jacket. "No offense, but no. You'll cramp my style. Maybe another time."

He considered her words and the ways money could be made quickly. While he didn't think one that came to mind was the case, and instinct told him to keep his mouth shut, he asked anyway. "Are you going to prostitute yourself?"

"Excuse me?" Her eyes went wide and she appeared shocked by his question. "Did you just ask -"

"I mean, you refuse my company and you're wearing makeup. It's a reasonable assumption that my presence, as male, would discourage the advances of…" He gulped at the angry light growing fast in her eyes. Perhaps he should have heeded his instinct not to ask. "I'm sorry. Never mind."

"I turned Dean down out of self-respect and you think I'd turn tricks?"

"Of course I don't think that," he soothed. Turn tricks? Tricks, tricks…. that meant illusions? Magicians? How was she connecting prostitution with magicians? He wasn't following her train of thought. "You're not a magician."

"I'm not…." She sighed. "Are you cracked in the head?"

Raising a hand, he touched the back of his head. "I don't believe so. I have no skull fracture. I'd be bleeding if I did."

"I mean, when Raphael was doing her thing, did she scramble your brain?"

His confusion deepened. "Brains aren't eggs. They don't scramble."

"You need to stop thinking so literally. Please?" She tapped a finger to his chest. "Stay here. Try not to get into any trouble. I'll be back in a few hours and no, for your information, I'm not going to have sex for money. I'm going to win a few games of pool and maybe work a poker game if I can find a drunk enough crowd. Also, I usually put a face on when I go out. It's a Harvelle rule mom instituted."

Castiel didn't want her to leave mad at him, so he caught her hand before she could step away. He held it in his and impulsively pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm sorry. Will you forgive me, Jo?"

She tugged her hand free. "Sure, but don't assume something like that again. I do have morals, you know."

He stood at the open door and watched her go and it was only when she disappeared around the corner that he closed the door and started looking through the papers.

* * *

Dean's musings on monsters continued all day, eventually chasing away even Christian, who announced that he was going to check on Mark, then turn in early.

"Alpha monsters."

"What?" Sam rubbed the aching spot between his eyes and wondered if he should take something for his headache. Instead, he started up the laptop. With Mark out of commission, they all needed to take up the slack.

"If there's a mother of all monsters, wouldn't her kids be the alpha of their line? You know, alpha, as in first?"

"I know what alpha means."

"What do you think? Are there alpha monsters and what are they like?"

"I think you should start looking things up on your phone and let me work awhile."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Dean's good mood was growing, which was a good thing. Really, it was. However, it also meant his mischievous instincts were rising. If this kept up, they'd be in prank wars within a months or two. Not necessarily a bad thing. It was nice to see Dean doing better than he had when he'd woken.

"Maybe I _will_ look a few things up. You know, it's too bad you killed the Djinn twins. We could have grilled them on what was and wasn't real in what they showed me."

"Does it matter what's real?"

He didn't answer, fiddling with his phone.

Sam worked, doing a few searches that usually netted one or two possible cases. He paused on one, reading and rereading the article. Some of the details were familiar and he felt a tiny flaring of hope.

"It matters, Sam." Dean's voice was low and he kept his face lowered. "Because if none of it is real, then Cas could be okay."

"He might be okay anyway. Take a look at this." Sam slid the laptop towards Dean and reached for his phone, sending out a quick text to the cousins.

"What is it?"

"Just read." He thought Dean would find it interesting.

"West Virginia. Motel room trashed, signs of devil worship on the walls and remaining window, body of a woman found right outside with odd burn marks on the ground around her." As he spoke, his voice slowed and Sam knew the exact moment it clicked for Dean, as he was suddenly alert, his eyes narrowing.

There were three pictures accompanying the article. The first was of a symbol on a wall, a symbol that would keep angels out. The second was of the banishing sigil. The final picture was of the burn marks, taken from the height of perhaps a balcony. If someone wasn't specifically looking for the impression of wings, they might not even see it.

The dead woman had been an angelic vessel.

It might not be Castiel who'd been there. Hell, with angels running around without a leash, it probably wasn't. It could be demons hiding out even. Whatever it was, it was the barest semblance of a lead and the first they'd seen.

Dean looked up from the screen. "Get everyone packed up. We're going to West Virginia."

"Already on it."

He slid the laptop back towards Sam. "It's probably not him."

"Probably," Sam agreed. "But just in case."

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Just in case." He licked his lips and opened his mouth twice before saying, "If it's him and he's okay, why hasn't he contacted us? Sam, he has to know we're worried. He has to have gotten our messages…right? What could stop him from…."

It was eating at both of them that Cas was missing. Sam felt a burning need to know the truth of what had happened to him, whether he was dead or alive, and knew Dean felt that need even worse. With any luck, this was where they'd find proof that Castiel was still out there.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Thirteen  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.  
Notes: Thank you to all who are reading.

* * *

A bone weariness encased Jo after their escape, the sort that made her want to sleep for days. She couldn't stop yet, however. Castiel may think that roll of money she'd given him was a lot (she certainly had back when she was young and naïve), but it wasn't much. It'd get him basic food, transportation and the cheapest motel for a couple nights.

She had work to do. There wasn't the luxury of resting long, not yet. Her refusal to rest for more than a short while at a time had bothered Castiel, though he'd made a good show at pretending he wasn't worried about her. She hadn't known how to explain to him that she couldn't rest until the knot in her stomach eased. That knot was something she remembered well from her first months out on her own. It was the knot of uncertainty, of not knowing if she had enough money for the basics, and it would ease in time. There were things she could do to make it ease, such as getting all gussied up, heading out, and working a con or two as fast as she could.

Castiel could stay at the motel and start an actual search for Dean. It'd give him something to focus on and keep him out of her hair for awhile. Jo didn't think they had a snowball's chance in hell of finding Dean, but it made Castiel feel better to try.

At the door to one bar, she paused. It was difficult to feel any sort of enthusiasm for running a con and maybe that should alarm her, but it didn't. She wasn't eighteen anymore or even twenty-four. It had been easier at those ages to rush ahead with such things. She'd been more reckless when she was younger and then spending so much time with her mother had given her a different perspective.

Dying had given her yet another different perspective.

Jo felt a sharp pang of what seemed almost like homesickness in her stomach and pressed a hand to it. Things were definitely different. Now, she had a life ahead of her that wasn't supposed to be and an ex-angel to tutor in humanity.

What did she want to do with her new lease on life? Jo could literally do anything, from returning to hunting to taking a mundane job somewhere to help them get by. She could take classes. The problem was that she didn't know what she wanted. Nothing appealed, not even hunting. There was nothing on earth that she wanted to do, no place she wanted to be. She was…displaced. Earth wasn't supposed to be her place anymore and here she was, back in the grind. It was disappointing and emotionally painful.

But she'd do this and make it work because she was a Harvelle and her mother hadn't raised her to give up and maybe, just maybe, that pain of returning to earth would disappear.

* * *

The speed limit on this stretch of road was fifty-five, but Dean pushed to seventy-five. Ever since Sam had found that article online, Dean's gut had been screaming to hurry. This was no leisured trek across several states, but a race to get to the scene before everything was gone. They were nearly there now and that feeling he had hadn't letup once, getting stronger the closer they got. This might not be Castiel, but there was something here that connected to him. He was sure of it and didn't even try to figure out how he knew.

Gwen leaned over the seat, reaching for the bag of chips. Christian and Mark had kicked her out of their car an hour earlier for being annoying. "What's in West Virginia?" She sat back with the bag. "You didn't say except for 'hurry your asses'."

"Might be a lead on Castiel," Dean told her.

"How is a dead woman a lead on him?"

Sam half turned in the seat. "There were symbols he taught us at the scene and angel wing marks burned into the ground at the body."

"Ah. Gotcha."

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror. "How's the slushie?" He'd bought her the bucket size to repay her for having bought him one on the trip to Bobby's. She was by far his favorite of the three cousins. The other two were growing on him though.

Mark was observant and sort of like Sam in the research department. Dean had decided that, give him a couple decades and a home base, Mark could easily turn into Bobby.

Christian had been true to his word and had been calling around about that lynch mob Sam suspected. So far, Christian was right. There were only a few who were out for blood and were actively trying to recruit others. Not exactly a mob, yet nothing to ignore either. They needed to be careful. Christian was making a list of all he'd talked to, where they stood, and who they'd heard anything from. It sounded like Walt and Roy had been the original source. That information wasn't a shocker. They'd had it in for both Sam and Dean for awhile.

Maybe it was time to visit the two for that payback, especially since they'd beaten Sam in the recent past. Dean added that to his to-do list.

"Mighty tasty. Thanks for buying." Gwen munched a few chips from the bag. "Tell me about the symbols - unless it's some sort of secret between you three that no one else knows about."

"It's not a secret, just symbols that aren't widely known among humans." Sam opened a notebook and drew each one. "These are Enochian. Angelic language. I'd say there are only a handful of people who know them."

Dean snorted. "Handful? You, me, Bobby. I think that covers it. Oh, and now Gwen."

"More than two is a handful." Gwen grinned at him in the mirror. "Hell, one can be quite a handful if you get my meaning." With one finger at the earpiece of her sunglasses, she made them move up and down.

Sam looked back at her. Amusement colored his voice. "Drink your sugar-rush, Gwen."

"Don't mind if I do."

When they arrived, Dean left Gwen, Christian, and Mark at the motel and headed to the scene with Sam. The clerk, the very cliché of a stoner, was happy to take them to the room, talking as they walked.

"Dudes, I was totally not prepared for a murder. I mean, this neighborhood has some problems, but murder, it ain't one of them. Robbery, we got that like every day, but not a murder. Heard this noise and came out and saw that chick all dumped on the ground and stuff everywhere. Ruined my day."

There was crime scene tape still up, the door hung at an angle, and shards of glass dotted the walkway in front of the room. The angel wing burn marks were still clear, stretching out.

"You didn't clean up?" Sam began taking pictures.

"Manager is still on a vacay. I don't do nothing unless he says."

Dean did a tour of the room, studying the symbols and the way they were drawn. Hope flared inside him. That was Castiel's technique, just as unique to him as handwriting was to everyone else. He pointed to one symbol. "Sam?"

"Looks an awful lot like his way of drawing them."

Nice that Sam agreed. He stepped outside. "Who rented the room?"

"This cute blond. Tight little bod. Long hair." He whistled and waggled his brows in a lecherous manner. "She was a looker. Too bad she was cray-cray, right? Put up all those symbols and the police said the one looked like it was drawn in blood. Blood, dude. Why are all the crazy chicks smokin' hot?"

Dean felt a prickle of disappointment. Maybe Castiel had come later? Or before her? "You're sure you didn't see anyone else with her? A white male in his thirties in a coat and suit maybe?"

The clerk shook his head, then held up a finger. "Wait. She did walk up with some guy and he might've been thirty-something, but he weren't wearing no coat and suit. Sweatshirt I think. Jeans."

"Anything else? Get a look at him?"

"Um….Dark hair?"

"You got surveillance tapes?"

The clerk laughed. "Police already asked. Those cameras there are for show."

"Right. Thanks."

In the car, Dean looked at Sam. "It was him."

"Looks like, but who was the woman?"

"Beats me. What do you think? He trying to stay ahead of Raphael and the dead woman was one of Raphael's goons?"

"Could be."

At least Castiel was still out there. Their newfound knowledge didn't, however, address why he hadn't contacted them and Dean continued to worry about him.

* * *

Castiel spent the hours Jo was gone reading the papers and making notes. He was still awake when she returned in the wee hours of the morning, a thick roll of cash in her pocket. She said little, merely got ready for bed and went to sleep. He stayed up awhile longer before turning in and was back at his task in the morning before Jo woke up.

This went on for four days. Jo would be out late and return with cash. She'd then sleep a chunk of the day and say nothing when he presented her with what he thought were potential ghosts. Castiel set those aside and continued to search for other possible cases.

He drank cups of bitter coffee and pretended he wasn't spending more time watching Jo sleep than looking for a direction in the papers. She'd told him not to watch her sleep and yet he wanted to do just that. He wanted to lie down on the bed beside her so he could feel her breaths and smell her perfume. It was an urge he squelched over and over.

For nearly a week and a half, Castiel battled strange feelings inside himself, staying silent when Jo asked what was wrong. This was something in his body that was wrong and he had no idea what it was or how to even talk to Jo about it.

Jo came out of the bathroom in her pajamas, her wet hair braided. A cloud of fragrant steam followed her and Castiel took a deep breath, enjoying the scent. It was sweet and flowery without being overpowering. A clean, appealing scent.

She began to sort through the items at the end of the bed. "We need to do laundry tomorrow."

His heart rate increased, body stirring in rather pleasant ways. That stirring had been happening quite a bit lately. He turned his head, sliding his gaze over her slim form. The shape of her body was pleasing and Castiel slowly slid towards the end of the bed to be closer, taking what he thought was another discreet sniff.

"You need a tissue," she asked. "Box in in the bathroom." Jo bent to set clothes on the floor. Her shirt gaped from her chest.

He gulped, chin raising slightly as he tried to see further down her shirt.

"You know how to do laundry?"

With one hand, he blotted away the drops of sweat that now dotted his forehead. "I'm familiar with the process."

She glanced up and he quickly directed his attention elsewhere.

"You know how or you just watched Sam and Dean?"

He smiled a little at that. She knew him fairly well after a couple weeks. "The latter."

"How did I know," she muttered and sat down to put on a pair of socks. Her toenails were painted a bright pink.

Castiel slid around the corner of the bed to sit beside her.

Jo paused in putting on one sock. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"You're sweating." Raising a hand, she touched his forehead. "Warm, too. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm well," he assured her. He _was_ well, too. He'd only had two more migraines since that first one and it appeared that the main trigger was waiting too long to eat.

"If you're sure." She finished putting on her socks and stood, going to the dresser and reaching for the phone charger. Bending, she plugged it in.

He watched her every move, mouth opening. What should he do? What would _Dean_ do?

Dean would tell him hands off his Jo despite her not being his or ever having had been his.

No. Castiel licked his lips. Not 'what would Dean do'. What would Dean do _in his place_?

Dean would approach her. He'd kiss her. Maybe. Would he? Should he kiss her? Did he want to? He'd never had these urges before, not even in that brothel Dean had taken him to. He did want to, he decided. Castiel wanted to kiss Jo. And more. Her skin looked soft and very touchable. He wanted to touch her skin, to run his hands slowly along her naked body, exploring every inch of her.

He stood. His palms were slick with sweat and he didn't give himself time to think. He caught her to him, swallowed his nervousness, and kissed her.

* * *

Something was up with Castiel. The sweating, the nervous, quick answers. Jo thought about it and the reason came to her even as he was catching her with an unexpected kiss.

Something was up all right. She felt that quite clearly when he held her close against him.

Uh-oh.

She pulled back, hands on his chest. "Whoa. Wait. What do you think you're doing?" She disentangled herself from him and put one chair between them. As kisses went, it hadn't been bad, merely inexperienced. Definitely enthusiastic and willing to explore the act to the fullest extent.

"Did I not perform the kiss correctly?" His brow furrowed with concern. "Was the tongue part not required? I'm sorry, Jo. I thought it was." He took a step towards the chair. "I can do better if you give me another try."

"Um…. Castiel, you're sweet, really you are, but I don't want that kind of relationship with you."

"Oh." He looked down at the floor.

"My definition of being a companion here for you, it doesn't include kissing, or sex, or anything that might lead to those."

"I'm having urges," he blurted out. "I either want to strangle you or touch you in familiar, intimate ways."

She saw frustration in his eyes when he returned his attention to her, but she didn't think it was sexual frustration. This was a different sort.

"I don't understand why I'm having these urges and thoughts. I had a dream about you last night that…. It was very…." He gestured with his hands, his expression indicating that it had been quite the hot and heavy dream.

"That's enough detail, okay? I don't need to know that."

"The last time I became human I didn't have this problem"

"Maybe you're going through puberty." Which actually made a weird amount of sense given his behavior the past couple weeks. He appeared to be growing in maturity as a human and sexual feelings were a part of being human. "Whatever it is, I'm going to get another room."

"I'm sorry. I won't kiss you again."

Probably not, but he kept looking down at her chest in a way that made her aware that he was male. It hadn't hit her before. He wasn't only a former angel, he was male, and that meant some of those things they'd talked about that she hadn't understood applied to him. It meant urges and him having to learn to navigate that minefield as well as everything else. Becoming human meant everything in the scope of humanity, not merely a slice here and there.

Dean's saving angel was really and truly becoming a man.

Jo could kick herself for not understanding it sooner. Dumb, she thought. I am so dumb.

"Please, Jo, don't go. I promise. No more kissing and I won't look at you below the neck."

He was pleading, begging her to stay, and damned if he wasn't using puppy dog eyes like she'd seen Sam use on her mother a few times in the past. He'd learned a few things well. That look was every bit as good as Sam's. "I don't know…."

"Please? I'll behave."

The more he directed it at her, the more she could feel herself wavering. "Fine, but one more hint of lechery and I get a separate room. I mean it."

His gaze dropped from hers, head bowing. After a few seconds, he glanced back up in an almost shy fashion that showed her a good bit of the sex appeal he was developing. Give him some time and he'd be as lethal as Dean. "Thank you, Jo."

"You're welcome. No flirting with me, either. Try it out on all the other women out there." She crossed her arms. "So, can I trust you not to molest me while I'm sleeping?"

"Of course." He seemed mildly offended by that suggestion. "Dean once told me that when a woman says no it means no and it means no as long as she wants it to. I believe that applies to states of unconsciousness as well."

She finished getting ready for bed and turned out the light a short while later. Castiel was developing a sexual identity. How had she not thought of that earlier? Jo rolled onto her side away from where he sat reading. She'd probably end up in a separate room anyway once he realized the motel room meant privacy and he could bring a woman back there if he wanted.

What, she wondered, would Dean think of this if they found him?


	14. Chapter 14

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Fourteen  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.  
Notes: Long-time readers may notice I have a habit of taking characters that have had maybe a couple lines and fleshing them out.

* * *

For four days after West Virginia, all Dean could think about was that feeling he had that they were near Castiel. So where was he? Was he just out of sight doing that angel invisibility thing? If so, then why wasn't he coming to them and talking to them?

They wended their slow way up to Chicago, where Sam and Mark had found what they thought was a ghost. There were unexplained disappearances in an apartment building. Sitting in their motel going over the information by himself, Dean remembered another apartment building and other disappearances from the early days of he and Sam by themselves, right after their dad had died. He recalled taking that case from Jo Harvelle, a case that had ended with Ellen pissed at them and Jo leaving home.

He sat back and half smiled. Ellen and Jo Harvelle. He hadn't thought about them in awhile. It _would_ be a case that brought them from memory. The similarities between the two cases were there and although Chicago had had it's share of low-life murdering scum, he didn't think this one would end up having been a notorious serial killer.

They'd all been innocent in those days. Funny to look back and see just how innocent they'd been. They hadn't learned about the angels and Lucifer and Dean had yet to make that deal that got him mauled by hellhounds and dragged to hell. It had been coming though. A part of him wondered if anything would have changed had they known where their actions would take them.

There was a knock on the door and it turned out to be Mark, out and about when Christian wanted him to rest. He had a long back brace on that he took off as soon as the door was closed.

"Don't let the doc see you do that."

"Didn't he tell you to stop calling him that? Now Gwen's doing it and won't stop."

"I knew I liked Gwen. I thought that brace was, and I quote, 'essential to your healing process'."

"What Christian doesn't know won't hurt him. That thing hurts after a couple hours. You'd think I could ditch it already, but Christian thinks something is really wrong with my back now. I mean, seriously? I got thrown around for months and he's just now worried?" Mark slowly stretched from side to side. "You have a few minutes?"

"What do you need?" Silent, observant Mark had given way to a chatty, observant Mark. He seemed to think he'd gotten to know Dean enough to talk to him steadily when they were in the same space together. Dean continued to shake his head on occasion at how different the cousins were from their Djinn dream counterparts. Obviously the Djinn had taken only the bare bits of their lives, like their appearances and the fact that they were hunting and family.

"Want to run something by you." At his nod of consent, Mark went to the table and sat, opening the notebook he'd brought with him. Those notebooks he wrote in all the time were his version of a hunting journal, not so much straight lore but a mix of detailed experiences and lore. "This case we just had before West Virginia. It's been bothering me. The whole 'bodies drained of blood but with no visible wounds or bruising' thing has been bothering me. I've seen something like it before. Not exact, but similar."

"Me, too, but a lot of things drain blood." The case had been nagging at Dean, too. The whole thing had felt off, like they were looking for one thing when another was really at the root of it.

"I widened the search for bodies that were drained of blood with wounds that don't account for the blood loss just to have a little more to work from and it was adding the wounds part that got me results. I found several so far over a few decades in that general region of the country. Most were attributed to animal attacks. Only thing off about them is the unexplained blood loss. Now put it all together." He pulled a few folded papers from the back of the notebook and handed them to Dean. "Here. Take a look. The attacks are in patterns of every seven years."

"Cat attack on a baby. Cat seen leaving the bedroom even though the family didn't own a cat and the body was drained. No windows were open and the cat disappeared." He read the next few on the list. "Dog attacks. Again, the dogs disappeared and the bodies were drained." The rest were more of the same and he turned to the last page. "Wait, what's this?"

"That," Mark touched the top of the page with a finger, "is how many of those bodies disappeared from the morgue."

"All except the baby and one couple. What happened to them?"

"Cremated immediately. Something about a biohazard."

"Kind of weird."

"Tell me about it. And the families disappeared pretty quickly after. This one we caught may be a change in a pattern right here. We're at the seven year mark." He flipped pages in the notebook. "I think it's some kind of vampire. I mean, with the blood loss it's what comes to mind. I just don't know what -"

As Mark spoke, the details clicked into place. "Muroni. It's got to be. "

"How do you know?"

"The animal attacks with the blood loss. I think…." He thought a moment, then nodded. "It's got to be. It's the trademark of a muroni. They're sort of like a vampire-shape shifter cross, but not really in either category." It had been a long time since he'd come across one. "They're humanoid in their natural form, but never attack that way, always using the form of animals and sometimes spiders to feed. It's a tactic they use to keep from getting caught and killed. Misdirection, trying to get the blame on something else."

"That fits."

"Sam and I came across one once. Man, we were chasing our tails for days until we managed to figure out what that thing was. Hard, sometimes impossible to identify. Not many hunters have ever killed one. If you found a lot of those victims in that region, I'd say there's a family of them working, moving in and out of hibernation, adding the victims to their family." He felt a sense of satisfaction in pulling that bit from memory. "They're pretty easy to kill once you catch them though. Nail through the forehead and it's over. Anticlimactic after all the chasing to track one down."

"Stock up on nails."

"No kidding. If it is a family of muroni, then why the change? Why stop the misdirection? What's different?"

"Don't know. A lot of things have been acting different since you and Sam put Lucifer back. Anyway, it seems likely that's what it is, one of those muroni."

"We should head back there when we're done with this, suss them out and end their feeding cycle."

"Does this ghost thing need all of us? I mean, you and I, or…someone else could track them down and meet back up in a week or so. Not that I don't like being in Chicago again."

It was the pause that clued him in. Christian's restrictions were driving him nuts. "You want to get away from Christian for a week."

He tried to slump in his chair, hissed with pain, and sat back up. "I must be transparent, but if I hear 'rest is the best medicine' one more time I might just shoot him."

Dean chuckled. "I get that." He studied Mark. Why not? Maybe he'd have Gwen come along, too. "Let me see what I can set up."

It took some convincing, but Dean, Mark, and Gwen were on their way back to Oklahoma by the end of the day, leaving Sam and Christian to work the Chicago ghost angle.

* * *

"I wish to hunt this ghost."

Castiel's voice was petulant and Jo crossed her arms. "If you think I'm traveling in a car with you puking, you've got another thing coming. It can wait."

"It's a migraine. It'll pass. We're an hour away from Chicago, Jo. We could hunt it."

She'd been trying to disabuse him of the notion that he had a migraine for hours, but the more she told him it wasn't one, the more he insisted it was. Heaven forbid he admit he had the flu. "You have a fever, Castiel."

"I'm fine. It's _my_ ghost. I found it and I wish to hunt it. I need to hunt it. We _need_ to be in Chicago!"

"We don't need to be anywhere because you have the flu." He kept saying that they needed to be in Chicago, though she wasn't sure why. The ghost, or whatever it was, could wait. Besides, the case specifics reminded her an awful lot of that case in Philadelphia years ago and she didn't want to somehow end up being bait again, especially with only Castiel as backup. No offense meant to him, but he wasn't exactly hunter material right now. He had far too much to learn. With a grimace, she tried to forget just how green _she'd_ been in those days. "You have chills, can't keep anything down, and have body aches. Not to mention you look sort of green right now."

He rolled over in bed to glare at her and promptly rolled back over, dry heaving into the trashcan she'd put by his head and finally changing his tune as he moaned. "I'm dying."

"It's the flu. You'll live. I'm going to go get you some things. I'll be, like, ten minutes."

"My short life as a human is flashing before my eyes."

"You're such a baby when you're sick," she murmured. He also had drama queen tendencies.

"I want…." He groaned again. "I don't know what I want. Jo, I'm scared."

Crouching down, she reached for the cool cloth she'd put in a plastic bowl on the nightstand and ran it across his face. "I know. If you can, take a cool shower while I'm gone and change clothes. It'll help."

She went about her shopping as fast as possible. He really had looked helpless and miserable, as much as he had his first two days awake. She picked up tissues with lotion, a large bottle of hand sanitizer, Pedialyte, and some meds to ease his symptoms (provided he was ever able to keep them down), then grabbed a bottle of lemon-lime soda, bread, applesauce, and pudding cups. The pudding cups were for when he was on the mend. As it was bagged up, she realized she'd bought all the things her mother used to buy when Jo had been sick growing up.

Jo paid for the items and headed back to the room, pausing as she saw a woman sitting outside their motel room door. She slowed her pace, suspecting a demon or other creature. It'd be just her luck with Castiel sick as a dog right now.

The woman looked up from her sketchpad. Her short wavy dark hair was tucked behind her ears and her smile was friendly and warm. "You _are_ here. I knew you would be."

She shifted the bags of provisions. "I am. Who are you and why are you looking for me?"

"I'm Daphne. Daphne Allen. I'm from Colorado. Well, my house is there." She got to her feet, her long skirt swishing. "I'm here to help you."

"Right. Help me. Why?"

"Because God told me to."

"Uh-huh. Do you know my name?"

"Sadly, no. I was only told where to be and given a picture of you and the man with you in my head."

"Sure. God didn't tell you my name?"

"No, but…." She turned the sketchpad around. "I drew you. I drew you both."

She had indeed drawn them. Fairly good likenesses too on those pages. However, she could be some deranged stalker who had been watching them the past week.

"He said I needed to be here and I'm here. I have faith and you're here just like he said."

"Yeah, okay." Jo worked her room key from her pocket. "You, uh, mind staying out here for awhile?"

"No. No, of course not. I'll wait."

Going inside, Jo set own the bags and stepped to Castiel. "Do you know someone named Daphne? Maybe an angel or something?"

Castiel lifted his head and looked at her. "No. Who's Daphne?" He didn't appear to have moved since she'd left.

"I'll take care of her. You just concentrate on not actually puking, okay?"

Gathering a few items, she stepped back outside. "All right, Daphne Allen from Colorado on a mission from God, I have a few tests that need to be completed before I can even consider letting you in this room."

"Yes. I know. I'm prepared."

After all the drills, Jo let the woman into the room, still half afraid she was some creature out to kill them or one of Raphael's angels. Daphne crossed the threshold however, stepping past the devil's trap and the barrier of symbols on the walls. She was human and, while Jo was suspicious, her gut wasn't telling her there was danger. She introduced herself and Castiel, told the woman to stay put and went to freshen the cool water she'd been using to bathe Castiel's face.

Could she trust her gut these days?

* * *

It was with trepidation that Daphne waited. She was a woman of faith, but taking this trip had been a large step for her. Leaving her home and setting out for a city in another state to meet a man and woman she didn't know was frightening. She did it, however, following the instructions that she'd been given.

Once inside the room, she waited for Jo to take the plastic basin into the bathroom before stepping to the window and scratching a tiny opening on one painted symbol. She took a deep breath and moved to the bedside to allow the observation to begin.

Daphne was fully conscious and aware, in control of her body. She was merely a conduit, not a vessel, and it was an arrangement that had worked thus far.

She studied Castiel, feeling a tug of attraction to him. He was rather handsome and when he opened his eyes to look at her, she saw they were a pretty blue shade. She placed a hand on Castiel's forehead, feeling the heat pouring from his body.

"Hey!" Jo came from the bathroom to bedside with the basin and set it down, a hand immediately removing Daphne's hand from Castiel. "I told you to stay put. Hands off him."

"What's his temperature?"

"High."

"Has he had anything for it?"

"Yes. Did he keep it down, no."

"Perhaps we should give him a cool bath."

"Perhaps you should back the hell off."

She got up and returned to the window. "I'm here to help. Let me help. Please."

"Sit." Jo dipped the washcloth in the water, squeezed it out, and dabbed at Castiel's face with it. "No offense, Daphne, but I don't know you. I don't -"

Castiel raised a hand, grasped Jo's arm and motioned her close.

Daphne didn't hear what he said during their whispered conversation, but it was obvious from Jo's grim expression that she didn't agree with him.

"Fine." Jo set the washcloth in the basin. "Daphne, go start a bath."

She hurried to begin the task, glad to be of service.

* * *

Castiel knew he could trust Daphne from the second she touched his forehead with one cool hand. There was a gentle peace that he'd swear he could sense from her. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. And so, when Jo protested her assistance, he told her to allow it. He'd seen the strain of caring for him in Jo and a second set of hands would ease her burden.

"I trust her."

"Why? Give me a reason, because letting a stranger in here -"

"I know I can. I feel it. She passed the tests."

"Doesn't mean a thing if she's some human whacko. You're having a gut feeling?"

"Yes. She won't hurt us, Jo. She's not a whacko."

"You'd better be right or we could really both be in trouble by letting her stay."

"I promise we can trust her."

Jo was reluctant, but in the end she did give her consent.

He let her help him to sit, hating how the flu was making him feel. He wanted to either die already or for it to be done. At least Jo wasn't showing signs of having this sickness as well. He'd hate to have to try to care for her how she was caring for him. This wasn't something he knew much about.

"Raise your arms," Jo told him. After he'd complied, she tugged his t-shirt over his head. "I'll let you get the pants, then lean on me and I'll help you in there."

He was hot and cold and his stomach wouldn't settle down. The bath was pain at first, then quickly turned into relief, Jo sitting and once more bathing his face.

"You'll be okay," she whispered, and he believed her because she'd been right before and because she was his friend.

Daphne stayed back, trying her best to anticipate what Jo wanted her to do. After he was dressed in fresh pajamas, the two got him back into bed. Between their efforts, he recovered in comfort and was on the mend within a few days. It was then that he really looked at Daphne. They exchanged flirtatious glances and what he was certain was awkward and equally flirtatious banter that Jo only half rolled her eyes at.

He became attached to Daphne, enjoyed her company, and realized that he was settling in to being human far better than he had the last time. Of course, this time the apocalypse wasn't in progress.

The only thing missing, actually, was Dean.

* * *

"Son of a bitch!" Dean crouched down and stretched out a hand to help Gwen up. She wobbled unsteadily on what he hoped wasn't a broken ankle.

Mark knelt, a little unsteady as well. He'd pushed himself and was having fresh back spasms. He pushed up Gwen's jeans leg and studied her ankle. His ministration caused only a slight hiss from her. "It might be sprained, but it sure isn't broken."

They'd managed to kill seven muroni, their bodies littering the cemetery. Unfortunately, the two that had been doing the most recent killings had gotten away. He wasn't too sad however, as Sam and Christian had reported in that their ghost had kicked their butts. Christian had two broken fingers and Sam a concussion while the ghost was still out and about wreaking havoc. Dean figured he, Mark, and Gwen were doing well in comparison. For once, Dean was the only one not injured.

He steadied Gwen, ignoring her muttered string of curse words. Mark carefully hobbled along behind them, also turning the air blue with words. At the car, with them inside, he paused.

Dean saw a woman out of the corner of his eye, there and gone when he tried to get a closer look. It looked like the same woman he'd seen on the way to Bobby's after he'd woken from the Djinn dream. Who was she? And why was she watching him?


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Fifteen  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

While Daphne had been studying Castiel, Jo had been studying Daphne. The woman had seemed to fall for Cas in under a minute once he was well, behaving like a teenage girl getting a chance with her crush. Of course, with Castiel's newfound interest in women he ate it up, doing the worst job at flirting Jo had ever heard or seen. She wondered if he thought he sounded like Dean in his head, because a few of his lines were like ones Dean might come up with.

Daphne wasn't any great genius at flirting either. The two were well-matched in that area, prompting Jo to think that perhaps Daphne had been raised in a convent somewhere and only recently moved out.

Jo didn't blame Castiel for enjoying it. She certainly wasn't going to moon over him. It was fine with her that there was a woman here who would. It had to feel good to him to have that romantic interest since he was admittedly having those sexual urges.

So why weren't the two acting on that? She'd given them time alone, fully expecting to find they'd done the deed. They didn't. Far as she could tell, they'd only had the most sedate of kisses even. Strange, after the whopper Castiel had planted on Jo herself earlier.

Castiel and Daphne had gotten kicked out of a movie theater a few days earlier, but not for making out in the back row. No, the reason had been Castiel's inability to suspend disbelief long enough to believe that aliens could use meteors as their spaceships, or some such thing. Jo hadn't had any desire to see that particular movie. Castiel and Daphne had been asked to leave because he'd given a loud critical analysis of the plot as the movie was in progress, annoying quite a few people around them. As Jo had warned him beforehand that he'd need to just ignore anything that didn't make sense to him, she figured it was his own fault they'd gotten thrown out.

Daphne had been disappointed that they _hadn't_ made out in the back row at all. Castiel had actually wanted to see the movie.

The woman confused Jo. She couldn't decide if Daphne was the dumbest, naïve, most clueless woman she'd ever met or if she was super smart and had some strange agenda. Just when she thought she'd firmly pegged her as the latter, she did something that put her in the former category. To be honest, she was almost like two different people and maybe Jo should start making inquiries about medication that needed to be taken and multiple personality disorder.

"What unholy sort of creature are you," she murmured softly, flipping a page in her magazine and not bothering to look down at it.

"Hmm?" Daphne looked up from her search a word puzzle book. Those books of word puzzles appeared to be her only vice, as she didn't drink, smoke, or do drugs. She worked through puzzle book after puzzle book in ink, not pencil. When every page was completed, she moved on to the next puzzle book.

"No one is as naïve as you are, except for Castiel." This was one of those weird times, when Daphne seemed to be a different person from the first one Jo had met. Jo looked in her eyes and saw a slight cool detachment that wasn't quite what she'd seen from the angels, but rather very much like it.

Daphne tilted her head to one side with a confused half-smile. "Excuse me? How am I naïve? I watch primetime tv and Cinemax sometimes. I even watch HBO."

"Uh-huh." Add in that she said things like that…. "How did you find us?"

"I told you. I had Divine guidance. I was supposed to find you."

"Sure. With your unlimited funds and willingness to wander the country." They'd had this conversation before several times. Daphne never wavered from her conviction that it had been Divine guidance leading her to them. Maybe it was. It'd be sort of nice if there was someone out there working to ease what Raphael had done.

Her confusion seemed to deepen. "You're upset that my family has money?"

"No, I -"

"I don't have to work. Plenty of people don't have to and I like traveling. Seeing new places is fun. I've always wanted to see the earth."

See the earth. Interesting way to put it. "Right. Seeing it this way is so much fun."

She did smile now. "I'm enjoying this journey with you and Castiel, learning about you both. Castiel is…not what I expected."

"What had you expected?"

"When I learned I needed to come and help you both, I didn't really have any expectations based on the little I knew. He's kind of…."

"Nerdy," Jo supplied. "That was what Dean used to describe him once. Called him a nerdy little angel."

Daphne knew all about him having been an angel. It wasn't something Castiel seemed able to keep a secret. He'd announce it to perfect strangers when he did something they found odd, coupling it with an apologetic smile. 'Sorry, I was an angel only a couple months ago.' Jo had been trying to break him of that habit, insisting it'd be a quick way for Raphael to find them again. All she'd have to do would be to follow those apologies.

"Unique is the word I'd use. He's not typical and I think that's a good thing. It's a needed thing."

As Daphne spoke, Jo got the feeling she was talking about something more than just in general, yet she couldn't figure out what and that began to bug her. Daphne bugged her. She was trustworthy thus far, yet Jo knew she wasn't exactly what she'd been telling them.

The more Jo looked into Daphne and her life, the more she should have been relieved, for Daphne Allen was indeed Daphne Allen from Colorado, the daughter of a couple who owned a moderately successful hotel chain in Colorado. She'd been born to them late in life, which Jo thought accounted for that seemingly sheltered upbringing. She'd had a somewhat privileged childhood, yet nothing too privileged. No private schools, no fancy college, no long vacations in Europe. Her parents had been relatively self-made millionaires and believed in good, old fashioned public education. She was who she'd said she was.

It was a gut feeling Jo had that something was off with Daphne and not one she could share with Castiel, for he trusted Daphne completely. Jo didn't. She couldn't, not when she had that feeling and couldn't explain it. There was a layer to Daphne that she hoped wouldn't end up biting them in the ass once it was revealed.

* * *

With several frank discussions about sex behind him, which were somewhat more enlightening than his book knowledge, Castiel determined that he wanted to have sex with Daphne. He was attracted to her, enjoyed being around her, and he was thinking of sex every few minutes. According to Jo, thinking about it every few minutes was normal male behavior and he was developing into a normal human male. He found himself taking more time to notice the women around him and see the wonderful variety.

He also began to truly understand Dean's preferred choices in reading material, venturing to buy his own magazine and proudly display it to Jo when she'd asked what was in the paper sack. She'd pursed her lips, sighed, and told him to only look at it in the privacy of the bathroom with the water running.

Castiel liked how many differences there were in women just in their physical bodies. All wonderful. All genuinely spectacular and sunglasses were marvelous inventions, letting him study women around him without anyone knowing he was looking. Somehow, he thought Dean might be proud of him for that.

The only snag to his natural hormonal state (or horniness, as Jo kept calling it) was Daphne. She'd made a vow of purity until marriage and he wanted to respect her vows because vows were sacred things. When one took a vow, one kept it. That said, he wasn't interested in marriage. It wasn't something he felt he could commit to at this time and when he told Daphne, she did understand. Castiel learned that kissing could be highly erotic, especially when done slowly and for long minutes.

He also learned why Jo had told him to keep the water running.

He made sure to only engage in that kissing with Daphne when Jo wasn't nearby and not to hint that they'd done anything at all on a personal level. It made Daphne call him a true gentleman and Jo get that funny perplexed look on her face that amused him. He enjoyed seeing that look appear on her face. So while he _was_ understanding a lot more than he had regarding sex and intimate relationships, learning fast, he continued to act dumb just to tease Jo. Sometimes she caught him at it and sometimes she didn't.

Things were surprisingly well for them right now. Their monetary needs were met and Jo's stress levels appeared to have dwindled with Daphne helping out. Not to mention, he thought he was turning into a rather well-adjusted human.

Castiel laid in bed, dozing more than anything, when he realized Jo had begun crying. Her sobs were soft, as though she was pressing her face into her pillow and trying not to make any noise. With a glance at Daphne, sound asleep on her side facing away from him, Castiel got out of bed and padded across to Jo's bed. "Jo?"

She sniffled loudly in an attempt to stem her tears and sat up. "I'm fine."

"No, you aren't." He sat and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled her into his arms in a hug. She resisted at first, then fell into the hug, her breaths hot on his neck and shoulder. A burst of affection for her moved through him and he slowly ran a hand up and down her back in a comforting gesture. "Tell me."

"I don't want to be here." Her confession was husky, her voice nasally from her tears.

"I understand. You're burdened with me -"

"No, Cas. It's not you." She pulled back a fraction. Her eyes were red and swollen and face splotchy. She must have been crying as silently as possible from the moment she'd thought he and Daphne were asleep. "I remember heaven. I remember the peace and I don't have that here. Being here on earth again after having been at rest is…. It's pain. It's an empty ache that can't be filled until I'm back there. I'm so tired and I want to go home."

"Is this why you've been refusing to hunt? Because I'd think you'd be enthusiastic as you could be killed and returned to heaven."

"It's not that simple. I did die doing the job and you know what? Dying hurts. Not the going up to heaven part, but the mortal wound part. It was agony. Terrifying. I don't know that I want to die like that again."

Sam had told him once that it hadn't looked like Jo was really afraid in those moments. It had looked like she'd accepted her fate and faced it quickly. He'd said Jo had been far braver going to her death than many people would be. Had he perceived it wrong? He must have.

"I, too, have died." He didn't mention how quickly, since that wasn't pertinent in his opinion. "But Jo," he tightened his arm around her, "you like knowing that you're saving people, those future potential victims of whatever creature you kill. You enjoy making that difference. It's who you are. It's in your blood as much as it's in Winchester blood. Yes, dying hurts. Shrugging off your mortal coil for the eternal isn't supposed to be easy or taken lightly. It's a rebirth."

"It's horrible."

It hit him that they were actually in the same boat, going from the eternal to the temporary. Her, returned to a human existence. Him, shoved into one.

Castiel touched a hand to her hair and smoothed it down. She had as much turmoil and emotional upset as he did. Plus, Jo had the added burden of him to care for. He pulled her back into a hug, sliding his hand along her back once more, and paused when he noticed the line of her bra band under her t-shirt. Castiel rubbed his thumb along it, momentarily distracted. "Are you wearing your bra to sleep?"

She sighed into his shoulder. "Totally not an appropriate question right now, but yes, I am."

"Why, and when did you start doing that?"

"Since the night you laid one on me and the why should be obvious."

Laid one on her? Oh. That was slang for kiss. "But I promised I wouldn't look." He made a slight movement back from her.

"I know, but it's better to put temptation away."

"You can't really put those away, Jo. You can cover them up, but they're…there." He got a good look at her expression and decided to stop while he was ahead. She was in no mood for this conversation, though she _was_ engaging in it. "Never mind. I apologize for my male tendency to notice these things. Your bra and breasts are none of my concern."

Her laugh was half sobbed and she leaned far enough back to easily place a hand on his cheek. "As my mom would have said, you really are a dear, aren't you?"

He knew what she meant. She meant that he was nice, sweet, and other such words, yet to lighten her mood, he said, "Not at all. I'm human, not a large woodland creature."

Jo relaxed further. "Comedian."

"I try. Would you like to lie down and be held for awhile? I'll gladly lend my chest and arms for that purpose. If it'll make you feel better."

She studied him a long moment, then nodded. "I'd like that. Thank you."

As he held her close, his thoughts went from her emotional state to Dean.

Dean remembered heaven as well. Had he gone through these emotions? Would he admit it if he had? Maybe to Jo. Perhaps Castiel should double up his efforts to find Dean because, clearly, Jo needed him. He'd fully understand her experience since he'd been human before his deaths and resurrections. He'd be able to, in theory, help Jo through this far easier than Castiel.

He threw himself into searching for things that might interest Dean to hunt, cases that would intrigue him. Finally, a headline on the browser page got his attention.

'Zombie Outbreak In Midwest?'

Carefully, he pressed the link. The article had little in the way of real information and he supposed it'd pass the Jo test. He called her over to look at it.

* * *

"Zombies?" Jo frowned and scooted a chair over beside Castiel to get a better look at the computer screen. One thing in Daphne's favor: she had plenty of money and loved to spend it on people she liked. Hence the new computer and Jo's nice shiny weapons. When it had been apparent they weren't going to get rid of Daphne and the woman kept trying to buy them things, Jo had caved and let her. Probably not her best decision lately, but at least she didn't have to worry for awhile. She perused the article and slowly shook her head. "No. Not my thing. Find me a nice ghost."

One brow twitched upward. "I've found you seven in as many weeks," he muttered under his breath but still loud enough for her to hear.

"Then find me a good eighth one."

"No. I won't allow you to ignore perfectly good hunts anymore. You need to…."

He floundered for whatever he was trying to say and Jo waited. It was better to let him think and get it out. If she didn't, he got all sulky. She rested her chin on her hand.

"…get back in the canoe. No, that's not it. It's a phrase pertaining to sports. Back in the…chaps?"

"Saddle," Daphne called out from the bed. She was working her way through a book of difficult Sudoku puzzles today.

"Yes. Back in the saddle." He nodded. "Thank you, Daphne."

"And just how do you plan to make me," Jo asked.

Castiel blinked, considering her question. She could see the gleam of calculation there in his eyes. He raised his chin a fraction, glanced at Daphne, and said," Daphne and I are going after the zombies."

He'd been picking up skills at a fast rate, including learning how far he could push and get away with things. He'd decided he was going to survive and take what Raphael had meant for evil and turn it into something good. "You do know those aren't real zombies, right? This story is a mish-mash of zombie lore and ghouls -"

"We're going." His jaw squared, a sure sign that he wasn't going to back down. He had a stubborn streak a mile wide and when it kicked in, there was no way she could budge him from whatever he was wanting or planning.

"Oh, come on. You'll get yourselves killed, Cas. You can barely fight anything without the angel powers. You're hopeless with a gun and have refused to learn how to use a knife."

"Why do _you_ care?"

"Ouch. I care. Who gave you an eye mask and pills to get you through your first migraine?" He'd had several since then, all just as bad as the first. "Who's been with you every day since you woke up? I care. I do. You're Dean's adorable angel."

"I'm no longer an angel. You think I'm adorable?"

"Who wouldn't?" Daphne's remark was under her breath.

Jo frowned. "I care."

He snorted. "If you did, you wouldn't let us two inexperienced and naïve people walk into a potentially dangerous situation. It could be a bloodbath. Daphne could die. I just might die. You don't want our deaths on your conscience, do you?"

She opened her mouth to respond and wasn't really sure what to say to that.

"I mean, if you don't go with us, it's like you let us die."

"Not true. Don't twist this."

"It is true. Zombies are dangerous, Jo."

"Those aren't real zombies. I told you that already."

"Still. One bite and we could be zombified and then how would you feel?"

Zombified? Where had he heard that term? And was it even a real word? He went on and on in that vein until she held up her hands in defeat. "Okay! Fine! We'll go hunt the stupid not-real zombies. You're a Jewish mother, Cas."

"Thank you."

"Not a compliment, sweetheart. Though it does make me miss my mom a little more." She sighed. "We'll head out to Indianapolis first thing." With a stern finger at him, she added, "Do not be smug about this."

"I wouldn't dream of being smug."

But he was smug and Jo didn't really mind it after all.

* * *

Hunting with the Campbell family was an interesting experience once they'd all found their feet together. They'd worked out a rotating sort of schedule for who did what job while on a job and Dean found himself becoming interested in the little things again. He'd had the tiny thrill of putting a couple pieces together, the satisfaction of knowing he'd caught someone in a lie, and the second of joy in knowing they'd put down a threat.

None of those had lasted long, but it was more than he'd felt in a long time.

"Caught something." Christian laid a bunch of printouts on the table.

"What, the clap?" Dean snickered at his own joke and reached for his coffee.

"No, a case."

"Do tell. I am all ears, doc."

Christian poured a cup of coffee and joined Dean at the table. He'd begun simply ignoring whenever Dean called him 'doc', since telling him to stop made no difference. "A man attacked another man, tried to eat his face, then his arm. Got a couple chunks out and the next thing anyone knew, that man was attacking a woman and so on until there were six victims in the morgue."

"So? They had rabies or something." At least it wasn't another freakin' ghost. They'd dispatched seven in seven weeks. He'd been beginning to think there wasn't anything else out there.

He shook his head slowly. "Nope. Took multiple shots to brings them down and autopsies have shown they were all dead before they were shot, not to mention the first guy was drained of blood." The printouts were slid across the table, Christian's brows raising. "Tell me this one isn't interesting."

Dean studied the pages. "You weren't kidding." The first man was the only one drained of blood, the attacks vicious. Sickening, even.

"I don't kid about Romero zombies or anything near them. Last time I did, Mark got excited, then all pissy when he realized I was joking. He's a big Romero and The Walking Dead fan."

It sounded like a couple different things mixed together, but they wouldn't know the truth until they got there and sifted through all the information themselves. "Let's get moving. We can be in Indianapolis in about fourteen hours."

As they got into the cars, he thought he saw that woman again, there and gone without him getting a good look at her.


	16. Chapter 16

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Sixteen  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.  
Notes: Thank you for your patience! I'm going on vacation and will be back in about 10 days.

* * *

The woman by the car two spaces down had dark hair and a come-hither smile.

"Hey," she said. Her voice matched her expression, but Castiel didn't think she was a prostitute. Jo had been pointing them out to him so he'd learn what one generally looked like and wouldn't make the mistake of chatting one up again.

"Hello," he replied, tugging his bag from the backseat of Daphne's car. "It's a surprisingly warm evening for this time of year."

"You got that right." She slid her gaze down him and removed a bag from her vehicle, shouldering it. "You here on business?"

"Something of the sort. You?"

"Me, too." She moved towards him and held out her hand. He took it in his, getting a good whiff of a tantalizing perfume. "I'm Gwen. And you are?"

"You coming or not," he heard Jo yell out and glanced to his left to see her waving an arm. Daphne stood beside her.

"I should go," he told Gwen, though he was reluctant to move away from her. There was something compelling about her. He wanted to stand and talk with her.

"Sure."

From behind Gwen, around the curve of the building about seven doors from where Jo and Daphne stood, came a man's voice. "Come on, Gwennie. Quit picking up guys in the parking lot before we even have dinner. We're starving here."

She laughed as though embarrassed by that comment and jerked a thumb over her shoulder as she released his hand. "My cousin. He's a charmer." Gwen cleared her throat. "I don't pick up men in parking lots."

He gestured towards Jo and Daphne. "My friend and…friend." Castiel leaned slightly towards her. "I don't pick up men in parking lots either."

Her laugh was a genuine one. "Good one. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Perhaps."

Turning, she strode to where the man waited. Castiel studied her figure as she walked away. She was dressed rather like Jo was in jeans, boots, shirt, and heavy jacket. He appreciated the sway of her hips encased in denim. Slowly, he shut the car door and followed Jo and Daphne into their room.

"You know that woman," Jo asked as she opened the door. She flipped on the light. "Huh. Wow. Go Pacers."

The room was decorated in sports memorabilia for that particular team.

Daphne's eyes widened and her mouth opened. "Interesting style decision."

Castiel shoved the door shut with his foot. "You must have the same talent Dean does for choosing motels." He placed his bag on the round table beside Jo and Daphne's bags and put his hands in his coat pockets. He'd taken to wearing the tan coat over his lined hoodie to have an extra layer of warmth.

Being human had made him more aware of the differences in temperatures. A twenty degree difference could mean shivering or sweating and, for the most part, he'd stopped thinking in terms of 'the last time he was human' as this experience was too different. Apparently willingly falling from the angelic ranks and being kicked out made a world of difference.

"It was cheap," Jo explained with a shrug. "I wonder if every room is decorated with their stuff or if each room has it's own team?"

The room was clean, much cleaner than he'd expected. Daphne checked for bedbugs and roaches while Jo checked to see if the microwave worked. They discussed where to eat and if it'd be better to order pizza. None of them were truly hungry, but they ordered a small pizza anyway, Jo and Daphne both refusing to get anchovies and pineapple on it.

After eating and cleaning up, Castiel checked their cooler. The ice needed replenished and he half thought he might see that woman Gwen again. "I'm going to get ice," he said, reaching for the plastic bucket and letting himself out of the room. As he returned from filling the bucket, he heard a familiar voice.

"You guys remember the pie?"

That was Dean.

Castiel stepped around the corner and saw Dean silhouetted in the doorway to the room seven doors down from theirs, around the curve in the building. The man and woman from earlier (Gwen and her cousin) went in past Dean. They were carrying large sacks. He opened his mouth to call out, but Dean shut the door. Hurrying into the room, he tossed the bucket at the table. It slid across it, toppling over, the ice spilling out. A chunk of it went onto Jo's lap.

"Why are you throwing the ice bucket at me," Jo asked him, brushing ice chips onto the floor.

"He's here."

Daphne sat on the end of one bed. "Castiel?" She'd half changed into her pajamas while he'd been getting ice, having exchanged her jeans for loose pajama pants.

"He?" Jo stood and shook her shirt out. "You don't mean -"

"Dean, Jo. Dean is here. He's in the room seven doors down. He has a man and woman with him. I don't know who they are, but the woman is the one from the parking lot. She said the man was her cousin. He's hunting with a man and woman. He's here."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am."

"The woman…. You weren't flirting with Dean's girlfriend, were you?"

"No. I remember what Lisa looked like and that wasn't her. We should go now." But maybe they should give them time to eat. Dean could be grouchy when he was hungry and it might be better to prepare themselves a bit more. After all, they'd been traveling.

"I'll get dressed again." Daphne reached for her jeans.

"Wait." Jo shook her head. "It'll be enough that Dean sees me right away. He'll need a few minutes to process that before he meets you. More than a few minutes maybe. I'd say get dressed, but you'll wait here in the room. One of us will come get you."

Castiel watched Jo dig a fresh blouse out of her bag, then reach for her makeup kit and curling iron. "We should let them eat. Dean mentioned pie. If there's pie, we should give them some time. He'll be mellow after having pie." Not merely mellow, but happy. It was a simple thing that gave Dean pleasure: eating and savoring a good piece of pie. Castiel now understood that pleasure in a food, for ice cream made him happy, especially if it was rocky road.

"What, do you have cold feet now?" Opening a small compact, Jo began to apply eye makeup. "You were chomping at the bit to find Dean and now that we've, inexplicably, just run across him out of the blue, you want to wait an hour to see him?"

He refrained from saying it'd give her more time to primp and curl her hair despite it being the truth. She needed time to prepare herself for the meeting like he did. "Um….Yes?"

"All right. Okay. I'm going to freshen up a bit then. I'll be out in twenty, maybe thirty." Going into the bathroom, she closed the door, then opened it and poked her head out. "Anybody gotta pee first?" At the negative, she closed it again.

Daphne cleared her throat. "If you keep your back turned to the door I can change back into my jeans."

He didn't try to glimpse the slender length of her legs in the reflection from the television, busy instead thinking about everything he'd need to tell Dean. There was quite a bit of information that needed to be given.

"Did you know she'd need time to get ready to see him again? Okay, I'm dressed."

Castiel sat on the end of the bed. "No, but I suppose I should have figured she would. Dean and Jo have…unfinished personal business."

"Oh. You don't have to introduce me, you know." She sat beside him. "I'd understand if you don't want to." Her hands clasped together in her lap.

"Why wouldn't I?" He put his arm around her. "You've been a good part of my now human life and it's important to me that Dean meet you. I've never had a girlfriend and I look forward to his reaction to the news."

"I see." She smiled. "You're hoping to shock him."

"Perhaps a little," he admitted. "His previous reactions to some of my quirks were amusing after the fact."

A little over an hour later, they were ready. He wondered if Jo was as nervous as he was. His hands were shaking and he had the nervous trembling in the pit of his stomach. Castiel knocked on the door and tried hard to remember to breathe. He looked down at the ground, felt Jo's hand on his back.

"It'll be okay," she whispered, but he got the feeling the words were more for herself than for him.

The door opened.

"Castiel?"

The voice wasn't Dean's. The voice was Sam's.

Behind him, Jo gasped and he raised his gaze to see it was definitely Sam there, Sam who was supposed to be in the cage with Lucifer. He looked solid enough and real enough. Absently, Castiel thought Sam needed to have a haircut. "Sam," he asked.

"Did you say Cas?" Dean appeared, focusing on him for the barest fraction of a second before he noticed Jo behind him. "Jo." He made a convulsive movement towards her with one hand before snatching it back and curling it into a fist. "Cas?" He looked like he was going to be sick. "What did you do?"

"It's her, Dean. It's both of us. We're here." He couldn't help stretching out a hand to touch Sam's forearm. The skin there was warm and very real. "_You're_ here. Sam…. Dean, is he…?"

"Uh-huh. Someone snatched him out before he was even really down there." His reply was distracted, attention still on Jo. "Jo?"

"Hey, Dean." Her voice was nearly a whisper.

"I'm so glad you're alive!" Castiel grabbed Sam to him, hugging him tight. "I've been worrying about you in the cage with Lucifer, hoping that Michael was doing the decent thing and protecting you and Adam, but I haven't really been too hopeful in that regard considering Michael's behavior in the recent past. It's so good to see you alive, Sam!"

Sam patted his back. "Good to see you, too. Um…you're hugging me, Castiel."

"I am." He released Sam, smiling. "And now I'm not. I'm very glad you're not trapped with two pissed off archangels in the cage for eternity."

"Not as much as I am."

The shock on both Dean and Sam's faces when they looked at Jo was no surprise to Castiel. It _would_ be a shock for them to find her alive. They all fell into an awkward silence, broken only when Jo moved into place beside him and said with a tense yet hopeful turn to her lips, "I'll bet I'm about the last person you expected to see."

Something flickered in Sam's eyes. "Not exactly the last, but somewhere near there."

"You guys aren't nearly as surprised as I was to be alive." She shrugged. "It's a long story we have to tell you, but it's better told inside in private."

When the drills had been done and they were in the room, Dean circled them. "You raise her, Cas?"

"No." He looked around for Gwen and her cousin and decided they must have gone through the connecting door.

"Who did?"

"Raphael."

"Why? What's his game?"

"Her game."

Fear rippled across Dean's face. "Her," he repeated.

Why did that change of vessel frighten Dean? "Yes," Castiel confirmed. "Raphael burned through the male vessel and took the next one in line. Her game has nothing to do with you." He glanced at Sam. "Or with Sam. As far as I know."

"Balthazar didn't use some weapon of heaven to turn Raphael into salt?"

What was Dean talking about? "Who is Balthazar? What weapons of heaven do you mean?" He looked at Sam, hoping he'd clear that up, but he didn't. Sam pursed his lips and glanced away. "Dean? I don't know a Balthazar."

"He's an angel."

"There are many angels I don't know -"

"No, he was a friend of yours…." Dean shook his head. "You know what? Never mind. We'll go into that later. Tell me what happened."

Quickly, Castiel gave Dean the overview of the past year, from the battles to the torture and finally to the present. "Raphael raised Jo instead of Ellen as a part of my punishment. She's been helping me learn how to be human, adding to those lessons you gave me before." Throughout the explanation Jo remained silent, letting him give the details.

"Where's Raphael now?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but Dean held up a hand. "Jo's turn."

"Okay." She sank down into the nearest chair. "We escaped custody so to speak and I couldn't care any less where Raphael is as long as she's not here."

Dean crossed his arms. "You were in West Virginia." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement.

Jo glanced at Castiel. "How'd you know?"

"Dead angel outside a crappy motel with Castiel's technique all over the symbols in the room. We were there a few days after." He studied her, then pointed a finger at her. "You were the blond woman the clerk mentioned, the one who got the room." he snorted. "Now it's all coming together."

She stretched her legs out and crossed her ankles. "Nice to be remembered I guess. Yeah, I got us the room, let the guards assume I was stupid for wanting to leave Raphael's choice of motel. They totally bought it, too."

"They don't have a very good opinion of us."

"Obviously."

Dean grunted. "Why didn't either of you contact us? Especially you, Cas."

Jo pointed a finger at her temple. "Memory adjustments courtesy of our not so favorite archangel. Minds are like Swiss cheese in regard to the contact info for any hunters remotely connected to you. Hunters period. I ask a question now?"

"I guess."

"It's personal."

"Sure."

"Cas said you had a girlfriend before Raphael caught him. Is she-"

He never got to hear the rest of her question, for Dean sucked in a breath and looked away. "Didn't work out. Been done for about three months or so."

"Oh." She tucked her hair behind her ears and bit her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

"Happens."

The way he said the word gave a wealth of information. Dean was sad about it and hurting, but not grieving intensely for that loss. At least, not grieving anymore. Castiel cast another glance at the connecting door. It was cracked open a tiny bit. "Jo, would now be a good time?"

She looked up at him. "Sure, I guess, but you do the explaining."

"Of course."

"Good time for what," Dean asked.

Castiel smiled. "I'll be back in five minutes. This is exciting. I can't tell you how much." He hurried back to the room to get Daphne.

* * *

How could Jo be alive?

The question kept running through Dean's mind even after the story had been told. He'd put her aside as dead and now to find her alive and well made a funny little tremor start in his stomach. When she'd lain dying in that store in Carthage, he'd realized that their flirtatious moments were at an end and it had hurt, a pain deep inside him. He'd understood then that he'd never again see her knowing grin at one of his cheesy pickup lines or hear her delighted laughter when he said one she'd never heard before. He'd known that they'd never have the chance to be what they could be to each other because he'd waited too long to look at her that way. He'd know there was no more road on this earth for them walk along together.

That loss of her and Ellen had left a gaping hole inside him, one of several that had refused to be plugged up and covered over.

So he drank in the sight of her, re-memorized the lines and curves of her face, and felt a slice of tension slide from his body. Jo was back. He'd see her grins, hear her laughter, and maybe, someday soon, when the sting of letting the dream of Lisa go was gone, he could see if Jo wanted to make some good reality with him.

"What's exciting?" Dean asked that question as soon as Castiel left. "Why's he all goofy?" Goofy was definitely the word to describe it, too. Had whatever Raphael had done to make him human scrambled his brain or something?

Jo's smile turned both amused and enigmatic. "You'll see."

"He have a pet or something?" Sam sat down on the side of the bed closest to the table where Jo sat.

"Or something is more like it."

Castiel pushed the door open. He was slightly out of breath and towing a dark haired woman behind him. Drawing the woman forward, he put his arm around her. "Dean, this is Daphne."

Daphne's smile was nervous and uncertain as she held out her hand. "Hi, Dean. I've heard so much about you."

He shook her hand. "Daphne, huh?"

Castiel's grin seemed to widen. "She's my girlfriend."

He dropped Daphne's hand. "Sorry, your what?"

"My girlfriend."

"Excuse me?" Had he heard that right?

"Girlfriend."

"As in she's a girl and she's your friend?"

"No, as in she's my girlfriend." His hand raised, fingers tangling in Daphne's hair in a familiar fashion that lent a surreal edge to this meeting for Dean. "We kiss."

"Cas!" Daphne laughed and elbowed him lightly in the side.

"Well, we do. It's a fact."

"No." Dean tried to bend his mind around this new information.

"Yes," Castiel replied.

"Hell, no."

"Hell, yes," was his second reply.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Not at present."

Jo tapped her fingers on the table top. "He does kid, but you can sometimes tell when he's going to because he gets this twinkle in his eyes that sorta lets you know ahead of time. Not always though. He's gotten me good a couple times recently."

And the surreal just kept coming. Dean shook his head, attempting to clear out that sensation and failing. "No."

"Good for you, Cas. A girlfriend. Wow." Sam nodded and stood, coming over and reaching out to shake her hand. "Hi Daphne, I'm Sam. Pleasure to meet you."

She took his hand. "Sam. Sam Winchester? Aren't you supposed to be in Lucifer's cage?" Her head tilted slightly to one side, like Castiel used to do when he didn't understand something.

"I got out."

She smiled a shy smile. "I'm glad. The cage is a bad place."

While it didn't surprise Dean that she knew about it given that she was riding around with Castiel and Jo, the way she said it was strange, setting of tiny bells in his head. They weren't alarm bells, just a warning to be cautious around her.

"Daphne and I have talked about many things," Castiel explained. "The cage is one of them."

As if Daphne knew about Dean's thoughts, she stretched up a hand and grasped Castiel's, removing it from her hair. "Now that we've met, I should leave you to talk in private. I'm sure you all have a lot to cover and I'll be in the way right now. We'll have a chance to get to know each other later. Tonight should be just for you and Jo with them." Gently, Daphne pulled away from Castiel. She turned, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm going back to the room."

"But -"

"It's okay. I understand. You need to tell them a lot of things that I maybe shouldn't hear, things that could upset me if I know all of it. It's better if I give you privacy. Have your reunion and I'll be in the room when you get back."

Actually, Dean had to admire how smoothly Daphne managed to get Castiel to let her go. She made it almost seem like it had been Castiel's idea. Within a minute, she was gone and the door closed.

Sam cleared his throat. "So, Daphne…. She's -"

"Yup." Jo sat up in her chair. "They kiss and everything. Well, not everything."

Castiel took off his coat and dropped it on the end of one bed. "Dean, my relationship with Daphne is pure."

Dean leaned against the dresser and slanted a questioning glance towards Jo. "Pure? Didn't he just say a minute ago that they kiss?" He blinked. "I never thought I'd see the day."

She smirked and damned if it wasn't good to see that tiny little quirk of her lips again. "They do kiss. I've seen that, but I don't think there's been anything else going on. I left them alone for a few hours and came back to find them watching cartoons." Before he could question the nature of those cartoons, she added, "Not those kind."

"Please tell me they've at least seen each other naked."

"Umm…. We both saw his goodies, but as he was down with the flu and sliding towards delirious, it doesn't really count."

He pointed a stern finger at Castiel. "You need to think this through a little more."

"I have feelings for her that can't be denied."

Jo looked like she was trying not to snicker.

"Didn't you try to stop this," he demanded. He felt like everything he saw was in super sharp focus and if he'd had a hard time after the Djinn dream, this was surprisingly harder to deal with.

"Who am I to stand in the way of puppy love? Besides, it kept him off of me."

"He made a pass at you?"

"Not in so many words, no, but he was definitely…_happy_, shall we say?"

"I have urges," Castiel explained in a solemn voice. "Many urges these days."

"Urges. You have urges. He has urges. You hear that, Sam? Damn it, he has urges." Dean was having an urge right now to laugh in a manner some might call hysterical.

"I do hear, Dean. Loud and clear. He's having urges." Sam was apparently finding it as funny as Jo was, not bothering to hide his snicker that was normal, not hysterical.

"Right. How is it a freakin' broken angel can have a girlfriend and we've got bupkiss?" He shook his head. "I can't deal with this right now. I'm _not_ dealing with this right now." Reaching for the remote, Dean moved to the bed and began scrolling through the channels as he stretched out against the pillows.

"Dean?" Jo glanced at the screen, then back at him.

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm watching Psych. There's a marathon on today."

"You're what?" She took a few steps towards the bed.

"Come on, Castiel. Let me introduce you to everyone else." Sam beckoned him and, with a nod, the two went into the other room.

Dean sighed. "I'm watching Psych. Psych, Jo. This with him and that girl," he waved a hand in the direction Castiel had gone, "I can't think about right now. It's unnatural. Castiel with a girlfriend. The apocalypse must still be going on because he freaked out a prostitute once instead of doing anything with her, yet he now has a girlfriend and they kiss. No. I am not dealing with this after a twelve hour drive and pie that was mediocre. And you. Don't get me started on you suddenly being alive again."

"So you're watching Psych instead."

"For now, yes."

She sat on the side of the bed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Sure." Slowly, she slid up to sit beside him. "We'll take an hour and watch Psych. It'll all still be here after and I guess the guy who plays Shawn is sort of cute."

He transferred his scowl to her for a few seconds.

"What? We've been watching it on Saturdays. Castiel likes Gus."

Dean crooned along with the theme song, entirely unselfconscious in doing so. Jo had heard him sing before. Funny, he'd never sung in front of Lisa, yet in front of Jo he simply did it without a thought to how he sounded.

"How did you get started watching it," she asked.

"Marathon like this one."

They settled in to watch the episode and slowly, Dean felt like he could handle this new turn to events.


	17. Chapter 17

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Seventeen  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Thus far, this reunion with Castiel hadn't been what Sam had expected. Sure, he'd expected Castiel to suddenly appear, but not to knock on the motel room door, have Jo Harvelle with him, and claim to be human.

Jo.

Man.

The words she'd said, a reference back to when he'd been possessed by Meg, had never been so true, for he _hadn't_ thought they'd ever see her again. At least not on earth. She really was about the last person they'd expected to see. For a woman who'd been dead, she looked good. Whatever the archangel's true intentions in the end, Raphael had at least made sure Jo was whole. Except for the memory thing and he could relate on that.

He took Castiel through the connecting door to both introduce him to the cousins and give Jo and Dean some privacy. The two had things that needed to be said between them. Whether or not they'd say them was on them. They couldn't claim that Sam hadn't given them the chance.

Mark was watching tv, Christian reading, and Gwen playing solitaire at the table. Gwen noticed them first.

"Well, hello. If it isn't the random hottie from the parking lot. Sam, are you bringing me presents?" She gathered the cards and began to shuffle the deck.

"Not exactly. Guys, this is Castiel."

The cards in Gwen's hands sprayed all over the table and floor, her grin fading. "The angel? Tell me you don't mean the angel."

Christian's laugh was like a cackle. "You _would_ try to pick up an angel in the parking lot."

Mark muted the tv. "Hey, I'm Mark." He lifted a hand in a wave. He was back wearing that brace he found uncomfortable and Sam knew he was in fairly constant pain. His back simply wasn't healing, especially since he wouldn't follow Christian's directions. He sort of reminded Sam of Dean on that topic.

"Mark. Nice to meet you." Castiel nodded in his direction.

"I didn't know," Gwen protested. "How was I supposed to know that the hot guy a couple cars down was -"

"Was is the operative word," Castiel interjected as he stepped towards the table. Sam would swear there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I haven't been an angel in approximately three months, give or take a week. The days have blurred together somewhat. I'm rather human these days, with human ways." Leaning over, he lifted Gwen's right hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, Gwen." He kissed the back of her hand and Sam heard her let out a tiny, pleased sigh.

Sam raised his brows, suddenly recognizing the tone of voice Castiel was using as a version of Dean's flirtatious sultry voice. He choked back a laugh.

"Likewise." Gwen leaned towards Castiel, her other hand sliding the deck of cards off to one side. "Nice to have a name for the face."

"You may call me 'Cas'."

"Cas."

"Gwen."

Right when Gwen's grin started to go really goofy, to the extent that it would get her teased a lot later by everyone, Christian snorted, tossed his book aside, and swung his legs over the bedside. "I'm Christian. Christian Campbell. We're all three Campbell."

Castiel released Gwen's hand, his attention shifting fast to Christian, then Sam. "Campbell. Your mother's family? Am I correct?"

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "They're cousins. Meg somehow missed them when she tried to wipe out all of mom's contact list."

"Distant and I doubt she even knew about us. You're mom that is." Mark turned the sound back on, but lowered it. "Our branches weren't exactly big on keeping in touch with the rest."

"Gwen and Dean went through the genealogy." Christian squinted at Castiel, a glimmer of interest in his eyes. "How do you know you're not an angel?"

"Why do you wish to know the specifics?" Castiel slipped his hands into his pockets.

It was odd to see Castiel in something besides the suit and coat, but he did look at ease in the clothes, like he'd gotten used to wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.

Mark shifted position, waving the remote in a vague way at Christian. "He's a doctor."

As if that was all the explanation needed.

It _was _for Castiel. He stood up even straighter, quite a feat since his posture was stiffly correct already. "Oh. I will, of course, consent to a physical examination should it be necessary."

Christian half laughed and pointed at him while glancing at Sam. "He for real?"

"He is."

He patted the bedside. "Come on over here, man. Let's have us a chat about your newly human condition and the bodily aspects of that change."

"There are more than simple bodily changes involved."

"Do tell. I mean that. Tell in detail."

Sam would have joined him with Christian had not Gwen grasped his shirt and tugged him to the table.

"Info," she demanded.

"Not much to tell." He dislodged her grip on his shirt and sat. "He showed up about, I don't know, about half an hour to forty minutes ago and had Jo with him."

"Jo. Who is Jo? He had two women with him in the parking lot. I assumed at the time he was having a threesome, but that's obviously the wrong conclusion, him having been an angel and all."

"Jo Harvelle. She and her mom were with us in Carthage." He'd told them about Carthage, but not much in the way of real details, just that two friends had died and they'd learned the Colt didn't work on Lucifer.

"Carthage was where…." She picked the deck of cards back up and started shuffling them again. "They died, right? They're the friends you mentioned. But she's back and the second woman wasn't old enough to be her mother."

"Ellen isn't here. It's just Jo. Raphael raised her to baby sit Castiel."

"Who is the other woman then?"

"That would be Daphne, Castiel's girlfriend." Castiel with a girlfriend. That was kind of a trippy thought. Sam wouldn't believe it except Jo had confirmed it and Cas had certainly seemed at ease with Daphne for those few moments she'd been in the room.

"Hmm. Girlfriend, huh? Well if he has a girlfriend, then why was he flirting with me?"

Good question. Why _had_ Castiel flirted with Gwen? "I don't know. Maybe Jo could answer that question unless you want to ask him straight up. He'll answer. At least I think he will. Not like he can zap out of here and avoid it." A thing that had driven Dean nuts. Castiel would disappear whenever he didn't want to answer a question. Sam wondered how that was going to work now. Would Castiel try to walk away when he didn't want to answer something Dean wanted to know? Good luck. Dean would follow him. Sam almost couldn't wait to watch it play out the next time. Knowing both of them it'd be soon.

"I think I'll be talking to Jo later." She began to lay out the cards in a line for another game of solitaire.

Within half an hour, Castiel glanced down at his watch. Funny to see him actually using it. He stood. "I'm missing Psych. I haven't seen the end of the episode that's on at the moment. I need to watch it." Before Sam could stop him, he opened the door between the rooms and joined Dean and Jo.

* * *

Once the episode was over, Dean got up and reached for his jacket. He and Jo still needed to chat. "Come on, Jo. Let's get coffee." Castiel stood as well and Dean shook his head. "Not you. You stay here with Sam. Jo and I need to have a private discussion."

"Very well." Annoyance and hurt swam together in Castiel's eyes.

"You and me, we'll talk later. I'll want more details about that fight with Raphael."

The hurt eased. "What else can I tell about it? She kicked my ass here and back again, then continued for months."

Castiel's casual use of the phrase 'kicked my ass' surprised him. He even said it like he'd said it before. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Castiel was supposed to still be an angel and this situation felt very wrong to Dean. "I have questions." He planned to grill him fully on any details, such as if Crowley was involved.

"Understandable. I'll answer them to the best of my ability." At least he was still mostly talking like he usually did.

It took awhile to find a suitable restaurant for their chat and, finally seated in a back booth, with both pie and coffee, Dean said, "What happened after you woke up, Jo?" He probably shouldn't have another piece of pie, but damn it, it had been a stressful evening. He deserved another piece.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if he would have gone to Jo and Ellen instead of Lisa had the two been alive then, and if Sam would have told him to go to them and not her. They would have welcomed him with open arms and taken a break from hunting to mourn with Sam. They would have understood everything.

But they hadn't been alive and Lisa's house had been the only non-hunting refuge left for him in the world. It had been the only place he could even begin to try to heal.

Jo was here now, though.

He wanted to stare at Jo and study her for hours, making sure she was real and this wasn't a Djinn retaliation somehow.

She cut a piece of cherry pie with her fork, then mashed it into the drips of vanilla ice cream. "Woke up in a decent motel room, one nicer than we all usually get. Castiel was there on the bed and it was like he was comatose except he occasionally rolled over and snored. He slept and slept. I didn't think he was going to wake up, to be honest. I was afraid I'd be stuck there not knowing what was going on." She took a tiny taste of the bite she'd cut. "A few days later he woke up and insulted me a few times. He'd really wanted mom with him, but got me instead. Parting shot from Raphael, I guess. Anyway, we started muddling through the whole human thing."

"Is he?" Dean tried his own pie. It was better than the piece Gwen and Christian had brought back earlier.

She snorted. "Hell if I know. When we escaped, I made sure he was out of range of that sigil just in case he was still even faintly angelic. He insisted he wasn't, but we just don't know. We're still figuring things out."

"What _have_ you figured out?" He reached for his coffee. It, too, was good.

"He has some pretty good gut instincts, _too good _sometimes to be just instincts. Like coming here. He insisted up and down we had to be here, argued over and over, and manipulated me into going along with it."

"How'd he do that?"

"Started guilt tripping me by saying that if they went and died it'd be on my conscience."

"Effective tactic."

"Uh-huh. You'd think he'd studied that under my mother. He was right, too. We had to be here because you're here and we've been looking for you." She started mashing the rest of the pie into the melting ice cream. "When he gets hurt, he heals faster than he should, yet not angelic fast. I don't think he's human or angel. A blend of the two maybe? Who knows? It's weird, because it's like he's been growing up double time, going through these stages of emotional growth. I can see him maturing more every day. Childish outbursts led to more rational reactions led to the recent hormonal explosion. Hence the girlfriend issue. Frankly, I don't want to deal with that any more than I have already. He asks so many freakin' questions."

"He shouldn't have had to. I told him a lot."

"Yeah, well, he wanted a woman's perspective on sex and relationships." The pie completely mashed in with the ice cream, she reached for her spoon. "He's matured fast in three months, developed a weird sense of humor, and honestly, I think he's using you as his idea of how a human male should be."

"Me?" He pointed at himself, though her idea did make sense considering the former influence he'd had on Castiel.

"Yup, you're his role model." She smiled and picked up her coffee cup. "Has to be you. He's been using cheesy lines, flirting with pretty much every woman he sees, trying to become a cheeseburger connoisseur, and drinks the same brand of beer you like."

"You know what brand of beer I like?"

"Oh, yeah. Mom taught me to notice details like that."

She knew what beer he liked. That she'd noticed and memorized it pleased him. "Huh. And I don't even know your favorite beer. I know you like sweet frou-frou drinks and can do shots almost as well as Ellen."

"_Could_ do shots. Haven't done many since waking up and I don't have a real preference in beer right now. I've been picking up whatever is on sale wherever we are."

They worked on their pie in silence a moment. It was good to be sitting and chatting with her. Dean felt himself relaxing more and more as the minutes passed. One thing nagged at him from what she'd said, however.

"What do you mean, he's using me as a role model? Why not use Jimmy, his vessel?"

"Maybe because Jimmy isn't there and hasn't been since he was raised back at that cemetery. Could be Jimmy's memories left with him. He never told me if they did or not."

"What do you mean he isn't there? He's supposed to be. It's an angel-vessel rule. They need consent while the demons, the supposed bad guys, don't. Good cop, bad cop. Relatively."

"I mean what I said. He told me when he came back with all that extra power that Jimmy wasn't there with him."

What did that mean, because Castiel had definitely been an angel then. "I'll ask Cas about it." Did Castiel know what had happened to Jimmy Novak? Had God sent Jimmy on to heaven? If so, then how had Cas still been an angel? It was a rule that the soul had to be there.

Dean began to wonder if Raphael taking Castiel's powers was really the reason for what was happening to him now or if it was some natural progression that had begun with Jimmy being released. Had he been turning into something else entirely since that resurrection in the cemetery? If so, then what exactly was he turning into? Maybe Jo's assessment wasn't that far off the mark.

She poured some fresh coffee from the carafe into both their cups. "Why don't you tell me what's been going on with you since Carthage? Cas filled me in about the end of the apocalypse, but he only gave me his perspective about what happened. I'd like to hear it from you - and anything about the past year that you feel like sharing."

As he spoke, Jo finished the pie and put her plate at the edge of the table. She was a good listener, knowing when to ask for clarification and when to let a topic go. Dean remembered that she'd always had a knack for reading him and he ended up telling her far more than he'd planned.

"Lisa sounds nice. There aren't many who'd take in one of us like that, especially the state you say you were in."

He nodded. "She _was_ nice. Is. She did her best to keep me together and help me heal, but you know me. I can't do anything easy. I'm still amazed she didn't kick my ass out."

"I'm glad you had somewhere to go that was away from the life. Losing Sam like that…. But he's here and he's alive. Geez. We all are." She shook her head. "We should change our names to 'Lazarus'." One hand reached over, plucking the menu from behind the jelly caddy.

"I just wish he'd had his memory when he woke up and whoever pulled him up had brought him to me." If it was God, then why had he kept them apart? "I spent a year trying to figure out how to get him out and he was out the whole time."

"Maybe there was a reason and you just don't know it yet," she suggested, flipping open the menu.

"Sucky thing to do whatever the reason."

"Sure was." Her tongue slipped out, slowly wetting her lips as she studied the menu. "I haven't had chili cheese fries in forever."

"Have some. What reason could there possibly be to keep us apart?"

"Not sure. You know, my mother banned me from getting chili cheese fries? I get heartburn from the chili, always have, but man, I love them."

"You can't eat chili, Jo?"

She grinned. "Bet that's something you never would have guessed about me. Nope. Can't eat it. Heartburn city. It's funny, because I can eat the ingredients separately, yet put them together and it's pure misery." She laid the menu on the table and tapped her finger on the picture. He noticed her nails were painted a pale pink. "I still want them."

Dean shrugged a brow at her. "Ellen's not here, is she?"

"Nope."

"You're over eighteen. Hell, you're over twenty-one. You're definitely an adult. Can you live with the heartburn?"

"If we can stop at CVS or Walgreen's and get me something for it I can."

"Then let's get us some chili cheese fries."

They shared a plate of them, continuing their conversation and falling into their old teasing relationship as if no time had passed at all.

He ate the last fry, washed it down with the last of his coffee, and asked, "so, what are your plans?"

"Don't know. Get Castiel fully on his feet?"

"No, not Cas. I mean you, Jo. What are your plans?"

Fear and uncertainty swam in her eyes and he'd never seen Jo look so lost. It tugged at his heart to see that same expression in her eyes that he'd seen on his face every morning during that year without Sam.

She shrugged. "Honestly, Dean…. I have no idea." Her voice reflected that expression.

Oh crap, he thought. If _Jo_ was in that state, the hunting world was really in the crapper, for she'd never wavered in her conviction that hunting was necessary and her calling in life. Here she was alive again, so why was she wavering? And what could he do to change that?

* * *

Talking with Dean had been a sort of catharsis, Jo realized upon returning to the motel. She felt drained and more tired than she should, yet lighter emotionally to have shared everything with him.

Meeting the cousins had been interesting and she looked forward to getting to know them later, after a good night of sleep. She covered a yawn with one hand. Was it too soon to bow out and go to bed?

Gwen approached and leaned against the dresser next to Jo. "He's cute." She jerked her chin up in Castiel's direction.

"Who, Cas?" Jo stared at her.

"Uh-huh. He's yummy. A blue-eyed treat that I so want to snap up. Mama needs a diversion." She lifted a large cup and took a sip. They'd stopped at a gas station nearby and brought back a blue raspberry slushie for her. Dean said she was addicted to them.

"He's got a thing with Daphne, Gwen." Yummy wasn't a word Jo would use to describe Castiel, but she'd sort of agree with cute, only in the adorable spectrum of the word and not the sexually attractive end.

"That won't last much longer." She waved the cup.

"How do you figure?"

"One, he was flirting with me twice earlier and two," she about purred the next words, "I like a challenge."

She hated to break it to her, but Castiel wasn't going to be a challenge, especially since Jo didn't think Gwen had any sort of vow for purity until marriage going on. "Ahh, well he won't be a challen -"

"Don't destroy the fantasy, okay? Thanks." She drew out the last word in a way that left no doubt in Jo's mind that Gwen was related to Dean. Her expression even looked like his right now, though the tint of blue on her lips from the slushie slightly ruined it.

With a laugh, Jo pushed off from the dresser. She liked Gwen. "I'll leave you to plot. Had a long day, so I'm going back to my room for a shower and some sleep."

"See you in the morning for breakfast and job breakdown."

"Wait, what? Breakdown?" What did she mean by that?

"Yeah, breakdown. You _are_ working this with us, right? Sorry, I just assumed you were. Sam told me you were a hunter. He said you and your mom were a good team."

"Oh. We were, but…." She shrugged. "I don't know yet. We'll see."

"Cool. See you at breakfast either way. I think we could use another pair of hands on this one."

Did she want to work this with them? Castiel could do it since Dean and Sam and their cousins were here to back him up and teach him the right way to do things. However, Cas was right about her tendency to worry about him. She'd worry if she wasn't right there with them watching over him. "I'll think about it."

Jo made her excuses and headed back to the room. She took a shower and was in bed reviewing the information Castiel had found on the case when Daphne and Castiel returned to the room. Daphne immediately went into the bathroom to change clothes.

Castiel sat on the bed beside Jo. "You're looking at the information. Does that mean…?"

"Ask me in the morning."

"Okay." He nodded and half turned to face her. He watched her before asking, "do you like them, Jo?"

"Who, the cousins? Sure. Christian's a little abrupt, but Mark and Gwen are okay."

"Gwen…." Frowning, he looked down at the floor.

"You know it's okay to be attracted to other people aside from Daphne, right?"

"I do. Still…." He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say and finally shrugged. "Never mind. Good night."

She slept hard and woke late, not remembering if, or what, she'd dreamed.


	18. Chapter 18

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Eighteen  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

After a late bedtime, Dean dreamed of Ellen Harvelle.

He was at the Roadhouse, which was surprisingly empty for the hour, a beer in front of him, and Ellen chatting. She had her arms crossed and was leaning against the bar in front of him, more relaxed and happy than he'd ever seen her. There were no lines of strain or worry on her face.

"It's been a long time," she said, looking him over. "You look good, Dean."

"It has. I miss you, Ellen."

"I know. It'll fade eventually."

"I don't want it to."

"It has to. You gotta make room for others in your heart."

While that made sense, he still didn't want to let her go.

"Look, I don't blame you. I made my decision to stay with her all on my own. Not your doin'." Reaching down, she brought up a bowl of pretzels. "Here. I know you like these."

"Thanks." He took a few.

"It's how this goes. We all know it eventually and we all hope we're the exceptions."

"Sure. Yeah." What was she talking about? Exceptions?

"Focus here. You need to hear me."

"Yes ma'am. I do hear you. Loud and clear."

A small smile turned her lips. "Then why are you looking so confused?"

Dean looked down at the bar and laughed softly. "You got me." Glancing back up, he saw the amusement slip away from her eyes.

"I still got it. Imagine that. Well, listen up, kid. I don't have a lot of time here. Too much to say and not enough time to get it out. This here is a one-time pass."

"Ellen?"

"You're a lifer, sweetie. Sam, too. Stop trying to deny it. It's in your blood, just like it's in hers, though I tried to deny it for the longest time. I thought if I willed it hard enough she wouldn't have it in her, but Bill was a hunter from a long line of them. Things get clearer though the lens."

Frowning, he took a long drink. Through the lens? He wanted to ask, but she leaned forward, dark eyes meeting his and he couldn't voice the words.

"You can deny it, push it away, and pretend, but it'll always find you again. You've got the family there that proves it over and over. Even the doctor. You need to accept it."

She was talking about Gwen, Mark, and Christian. Ellen wouldn't know about them. She'd never met them.

"I see more here than I ever did. Now, I need a favor from you."

"Ask it."

"She's in pain. I know it and I can't help her from here. She's lost and it breaks my heart because my baby girl has never been lost. She's always had a focus. Jo wanted to hunt like her daddy and now she's drifting."

Her hand touched his arm. It was ice cold, so cold that he gasped. To his right came a tapping noise, over and over.

Ellen's hand squeezed. "Find her a purpose. Make her see where she belongs and it ain't in the grave. Not anymore. Paths change and we both know it. Your has changed more times than I've got fingers to count. Hers has changed and that archangel meant it for bad, I know he did, but you make her make it for good." Her lower lip trembled and for a second, he thought she might begin to cry. "Make her live her life, Dean. Promise me you'll take care of her. I may be up here, but she's still all I got."

"I will. You know I will."

The tapping noise grew louder and more insistent.

Ellen released his arm and touched his cheek. "Thank you. Now," she drew back, fading until she was washed out, like an image on an old tv, "I think you'd better get that."

He came awake with a sharp breath, sitting up and looking around. The room was icy, freezing. He could see his breaths. In the bed across from him, Sam was hunched into a ball and shivering.

The sound in his dream was a knocking at the door.

Dean got up, staggered to the door, and looked in the peephole. Seeing Castiel there, he opened the door wide. The air outside was far warmer than inside.

The ghost of Ellen Harvelle had come down from heaven to see him and gone into his dreams like the angels could. Should he be alarmed by that?

"It's three in the morning, Cas." The Satanic witching hour according to some sources. "I've had maybe two hours of sleep."

Castiel peered into the room with a frown, gaze moving all around. For a second, Dean thought he'd comment on the cold, but he didn't. "I've already had my needed three hours."

"Three?"

"Sometimes two, but usually three. My body has adjusted to it and I find it runs at optimum with three. Jo is quite jealous. She needs a solid six to seven or she's a bit on the grouchy side."

"Most people need six to nine hours. Freak."

"I spend quite a bit of time reading or watching videos on our computer and it is sort of freakish, isn't it? I'm unique." Castiel smiled at that.

"Uh-huh. You're unique, like the other people who only need three hours. Speaking of hours…. What are you doing here at _this_ hour?" Dean smothered a yawn.

"We need to have that talk and without Jo knowing we're talking. She can't know I've come to you about this."

He glanced back at Sam. He'd stopped shivering and was still asleep. "Give me a minute."

Seated in the same all-night restaurant he'd gone to with Jo, he watched Castiel devour a cheeseburger with all the trimmings and a large milkshake and hoped he had a super metabolism to go with those advanced self-healing powers Jo had mentioned earlier. If he didn't, Castiel was going to start gaining weight. "You wanted to talk, so talk. I could still be in bed asleep."

"Somehow, I think the ghost that visited you interrupted your sleep long before I did." He slid his plate aside.

"You _did_ notice."

"I do have some quirks. I notice things like that, see some things. It's a selective matter and not consistent, though it shows signs of becoming consistent on the matter of ghosts and spirits."

Dean couldn't resist what he thought was the obvious remark. "You see dead people."

His head dipped in a slow nod as one brow raised. "I even understand that reference now. It was on one night and it's one of Daphne's favorite movies. But it's not a sixth sense I have, Dean. It's more a power in the angelic realm of existence than the one humans have. It's hard to explain and we need to discuss Jo, not me."

"She's a popular subject. First Ellen, now you."

He was quiet for a long moment. "So it was Ellen who came to see you. Interesting. I'm right to be worried about Jo then."

"Why are you worried?"

He dunked his straw into the milkshake several times. "Understand that this isn't easy for me. Talking about Jo is difficult because she's been my rock since I woke. We've been confidantes and I don't wish to break her trust in me, but I have to. It's not a choice I like making. I prefer to keep the secrets people tell me. After careful deliberation, I've determined that I shouldn't be the rock to her that she's been to me. She needs a rock of her own and it should be you."

"Why?"

Now he tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "Jo is a hunter. It's one thing I remember knowing about her instantly when we met at Bobby's. It was one of the things she used to define herself and that marker is gone. I don't know if Raphael did it or if it's solely through her fears…." He sighed. "She died on a job and the pain of her death remains with her, just as the memory of that peace she had in heaven remains. Raphael is a dick. Those heaven memories shouldn't be there. They're supposed to fade for most people. If anything, she should remember a white light, but she has it all in her head and she's pining for it. She says she's tired. Knowing what you've gone through yourself, I thought you would be able to relate to her on many of those points."

Dean thought he understood Jo better now and that fear and uncertainty he'd seen in her eyes a few hours earlier. His decision to help her had to be the right one if both Ellen and Castiel were telling him it was. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

"How about we talk about Daphne now?"

Castiel smiled. "I love her." Before that statement could begin to alarm Dean, Castiel continued. "I'm not in love with her, but I love her nonetheless. She's been very important to me these weeks. I've learned so much from her. She anticipates me and cares for me and I don't know what Jo and I would have done without her."

That didn't sound to Dean like there were deep feelings between them. "You said you have feelings for her that can't be denied."

"They can't be denied. They're real."

"Usually a statement like that means you're in love, not just loving a person."

His smile faded. "Oh. Usually Jo corrects me on these things. Or Daphne does."

"How did you meet?" The story wasn't long, but Castiel added plenty of other details leading right up to the present. "She's been like a benefactor then. Giving you money for things, buying you things…. Why can't I find a sugar mama to support me while I hunt?"

"Sugar mama?"

"Never mind. What'd Jo have to say about Daphne?"

"She didn't want to trust her for a long time. Now, she does. I think. Daphne has proven herself several times over."

They talked about Raphael and, though Dean grilled him like he'd planned, there was no new information. What had been said earlier was what had happened. Castiel had been captured by Raphael, the rebellion squashed, and Raphael had decided to make him human after torturing him for months. Crowley wasn't involved and Castiel didn't even know what Crowley was up to. He hadn't heard anything about the war over hell between Crowley and Meg, though he said it didn't surprise him the two were at each other's throats.

Dean sat back in his seat. "How did Raphael make you human?" After what Cas had said earlier about his ghost sense, he was doubting the human label.

"She turned off the tap to my powers. I think, anyway."

"What about your grace?"

"It should still be here, though, to be fair, I don't remember much after her decision. Once I passed out she could have removed it. She had ample time to do whatever she wished with my unconscious form."

"You can't feel it there?"

"No. Not in this state. Can you feel your soul?"

"No. What about your wings? They still there?"

"If I can't feel my grace in this state, what makes you think I can feel my wings? Like the grace, they should still be there, I just can't use them. Although, if I _am_ human, both are gone. I…I don't know. Human perceptions are somewhat limited, Dean. I've told you that before."

"I know you have."

"I can't look in the mirror and see either of those. I can't feel them. I suppose I won't know for sure unless an angel or other creature with abilities tells me."

"Would a demon see any bit of remaining angel in you?"

"Probably, but again, I don't know. It could be that the angelic that remains, if it does, is so small it's on a cellular level that only a very high power being can see, like an archangel or Death."

"This power you have to see the dead -"

"It's more like I see through them down to the energy that makes them up."

"So, does that mean you could still see Reapers?"

"I haven't."

"Are you sure? They can be tricky."

His sigh was annoyed. "I'm not sure of much at all regarding my current existence. I'm doing the best I can with what I have and what is developing. This power, as you call it, could well disappear tomorrow. I'm living my life as a human because I feel human. I feel the emotions, the physical sensations, the up and downs. But if you're asking if I am definitely human…." He shrugged. "I can't answer that."

"Cas, is there anything you like about being human? This time, I mean. Last time sucked for you."

He studied the table top, obviously gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Yes. This…experience has been far different than the last. I can't compare them." Sitting forward, he laced his hands together and looked at Dean. "You once told me about the healing properties of a good meal with friends. I understand that now. I enjoy ice cream and cheeseburgers with a side of onion rings. So many choices of foods to try. I also enjoy showering, spending time with friends, and dreaming. Sleep is indescribable really. My dreams have been good for the most part. The nightmares are few and far between, but when I do have them Jo helps me recover. She holds me until the memory of them fades."

"Not Daphne?"

"Daphne isn't my rock, Dean. Jo is. I told you. She anchors me here."

He found himself a little jealous at the bond Castiel seemed to have developed with Jo. "So she holds you. Okay."

He studied Dean with a small frown. A slow smile formed on his lips. "There's no need to be jealous."

He snorted and glanced away. "I'm not jealous." He totally was. His aftermath of nightmares had been too tense and sometimes violent for anyone to hold him. Lisa had tried once and only once. Dean had apologized to her, but she'd said it was safer if she simply held him later, when he'd calmed down.

"Yes, you are. But like I said, there's no need to be. I'm certain Jo will hold you when you have nightmares if you'd like her to. She'll help you as well."

"Cas."

"She turned me down, Dean. My relationship with her isn't that kind of relationship. It's rather like a feminine take on the bond you and I share. I pulled you from hell and you grounded me in what was right. She has grounded me on earth. It's one coin with two sides, if that makes sense."

It did.

They talked through a different flavor of milkshake on Castiel's part and a plate of onion rings on Dean's. He learned all about Castiel's migraine's and he, in turn, explained about the Djinn and why he'd been weird himself.

* * *

Sam shut the door to their motel room behind him. Dean had woken him after he'd gotten back from a late chat with Castiel and they'd discussed what needed to be done. Jo was intent on avoiding hunting in any way, shape, or form, and Dean had an idea how to remedy that wrong. Sam agreed with both Dean and Castiel that it was wrong, too. Jo needed help getting back on the path. "We're all clear. They went to the grocery store. Daphne says it'll be awhile. He always has a lot of questions there and she says he can come up with enough to keep Jo busy for hours."

It had been easy for Sam to gather everyone together for the meeting Dean wanted to have. Jo had missed breakfast and it had been Castiel who'd woken her with his request to 'run some errands' which included the grocery store. Daphne had remained behind, apparently content to catch up on some reading.

"You called a family meeting?" Christian turned a chair around and sat with his arms crossed along the back. He'd taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves.

Dean was cleaning his gun. "I did call a meeting."

Mark set one folder on the table. "Since we already handed out tasks, I bet it's about your friend Jo, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Sam said softly. "It's about Jo."

"Jo Harvelle is someone Sam and I care about. That makes her family and family cares for their own. Do we all agree on that?" Dean carefully began putting the pieces of the gun back together.

Sam watched Gwen, Christian, and Mark all nod. It was one of those talks they'd had recently. They'd hashed out that family wasn't always blood, but those who meant the most.

"She's a little lost right now and I think we can all relate to the feeling."

"Think? I know I can. What do you want us to do," Gwen asked. She looked more like a young professional in her suit than a hunter.

"We need to help her remember what she loved about this job." Sam moved to stand beside Dean, giving them a visual reminder that he and Dean were united on this. "She loved helping people and knowing she was doing that. Jo wanted in because it was what her dad did and -"

" - it made her feel close to him. She needs good hunters willing to help her back in and have her back to get her over that hump. She needs friends."

Mark nodded. "We can do that, but I don't know her. We," he gestured between himself, Christian, and Gwen, "don't know her. It's not us she'll trust to have her back. To be honest, I think it's the two of you and Castiel she needs. People she knows already."

"Mark's right and…" Christian sighed. "….not to bring your plan down, Dean, but if she knows you as well as you both think, won't she wonder why she should go all in if you won't?"

Sam glanced down at Dean. He had to know the cousins had noticed how reluctant he'd been to hunt with all his heart.

Gun put back together, Dean sat back. He looked at all of them, even Sam. "I know. She'll wonder and she's not stupid. I know I haven't been here when I've been here, but it's not instantaneous. Jo -"

"Will understand they're in the same place right now," Sam finished for him. "Like Dean said, she's not stupid. He's told her what happened. She can fill in the blanks easily enough and Jo gets us. She understands us." Dean anyway. Always had.

It was Christian's turn to nod. "Okay. Dean takes lead, Sam, you and Castiel follow, and the rest of us, we'll do what we can. She can room with Gwen and Gwennie here has enough blood thirst these days to encourage the murderous tendencies in anyone."

"Hey, I said I was sorry," Gwen snapped. "Maybe you should get out of my way next time."

Christian had gotten shot with salt rounds when he hadn't stepped back the second Gwen had seen one ghost on their last job. She'd claimed she wasn't aiming for him, but had hit him like she _had_ been aiming for him. Sam suspected she'd just gotten tired of his attitude because he'd been one moody SOB that entire job. Come to find out, it had fallen right in the middle of his wife's birthday. He'd had her on his mind the entire time.

"Okay, here's what we'll do today." Dean laid out his plan and when they'd all gone about their jobs except Sam, Dean opened the file Mark had left and looked up at him. "You think this'll work?"

"Maybe. She was determined before she died. I think it'll come back. Like you said, it takes time."

He left Dean to get the room ready and headed out to the grocery store to 'rescue' Jo from Castiel.


	19. Chapter 19

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Nineteen  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

"Cas tells me you haven't been hunting." Dean tried to keep his tone casual. He'd prepared the room to entice her to the case because he knew Jo couldn't resist gory crime scene photos. He'd gotten out the worst of the pictures Christian had brought back that morning and made sure they were at the top of the stack.

"He's been upset about that," she acknowledged with a nod of her head as she slipped off her jacket and laid it across the end of Sam's bed.

He glanced at her. "You, Jo? This life was your goal, your dream."

"Dreams change." She gave a nonchalant shrug and stepped closer, leaning over to study the pictures at the far side of the table. He'd had ample time to put pictures on the wall, as Jo had managed to avoid coming back to the motel most of the day. Funnily enough, it had been Daphne who'd maneuvered Jo into meeting Dean in the room.

"Do they?"

Stretching out a hand, she picked up one gruesome photo. "They do when you've died and been shoved back down here without anyone asking if you even wanted to come back."

He turned, rested a hand on the table, and plucked the photo from her, tossing it down. "I've been dead, Jo. I've been dead and come back more times than you know. I've been to heaven and, I get that you don't want to be here, but what I don't get, is why you'd rather be up there. It's nothing but reliving the past."

She picked up another photo. "Not once you've been snapped from the loop. Ash found me. After you and Sam left, he looked for me and mom. He found me, taught me, said he'd be back as soon as he could with mom, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a motel room with Castiel doing a good impression of a coma patient for the better part of a week." Jo waved the picture at him. "What's the first victim's story?"

"Drained of blood, went all movie zombie under a bridge."

"Anything indicating how he was drained?"

"Nada."

"Hmm." There was a spark of interest in her eyes, but nothing he thought she'd admit to just yet. Jo moved the pictures around, arranging them so that the goriest gut pictures were all together. Once they were, she pursed her lips and started rearranging the order.

"The one in your hand is from the latest victim, happened yesterday."

"How'd you get all this so fast? You got here yesterday, same as we did."

He leaned against the table. "Christian. He went in early, before anyone with pull enough to really stop him got in, acted like a pissy Fed who'd had to take a late flight and had barely had any sleep."

"Bet he's good at that role."

"Aces it. I think it's partly because he's not exactly what you'd call a people person."

"But he's doctor." Frowning, she exchanged the picture in her hand with another one, then began to lay them all out overlapping, so that the sections of internal organs connected.

"He's better with kids than adults. You should see him with the younger ones, like about three and four. He's like another person entirely." As she worked, Dean realized that she was working the pictures like a cardboard puzzle and he was beginning to see a pattern. "Hold on. Look at that." He touched three of the pictures, tracing the design with a finger. "You see that? It's a pattern. Tell me I'm not imagining it."

She whistled. "You're not imagining it."

"The gore at the scenes isn't random. Give me that picture from the wall."

Leaning over it, she snagged it and handed it to him.

Dean laid it down and stared at the pictures. "Second victim. The rest from that scene," he moved two pictures, "line up in a circle around it, making…." A symbol. A freaking symbol. "Son of a bitch. A detached symbol, each victim with a different piece of it from their stomach."

"Gross." She sounded more fascinated than grossed out. "No movie zombie has the mind to do this."

"I agree."

"Only one thing arranges entrails in an orderly pattern to make symbols. Gotta be a witch. Or a coven of them."

He groaned. "Damn it. Witches. I friggin' hate witches"

Jo made a noise rather like his own groan. "Witches suck. Why are they making people into movie zombies? What's the motivation?"

Dean had a few ideas, but didn't say anything, waiting for her to prod him.

"Well?"

"Well what, Jo?"

"Were there any hex bags anywhere? I'd think hex bags would be the easiest way for a witch to help several people into that state."

"Thought you didn't want to hunt." Drawing out his phone, he sent a group text with their conclusion.

"Dean. Come on. Someone is making people into movie zombies with a spell. That's personal. Has to be. And they're still doing it. It's something…."

"Something what?" Christian's first text came in with one word: Duh. Dean wondered what he and Sam had found out about the first victim that supported the conclusion.

She didn't answer.

"Interesting maybe? Intriguing? So which is it? Do you want to hunt or not?" He slipped the phone into his pocket, ignoring the buzz of more texts coming in. Sam would be wanting more information, Gwen and Mark cursing as they hated witches as much as he did, and Castiel would be asking what he needed to do.

"I'll admit I'm curious. Why would a witch go to these lengths? What would drive one to do this and do whatever he or she did to drain someone of blood? What sort of spell is this, because it's not like any other zombie spell I've come across."

"You've come across zombie spells before? Other than the usual ones?"

"Oh, yeah. Remind me to tell you about the time Rufus and I went to New Orleans without mom and ended up with Bobby having to come rescue us at four in the morning from these Babylonian creatures that a witch was trying to control. They were zombified…sort of. The witch tried anyway."

"I think I definitely need to hear that one sometime. Where was Ellen?"

"Staying with a friend for a week." She used finger quotes on the word 'friend'.

"Friend?"

"He wasn't exactly a boyfriend, but, um…yeah, you get the picture. It was always better if I just went out on the road with Rufus or stayed at Bobby's house because…eww. Just the thought of my mother and…that…" Her lip curled and she shuddered. "Eww."

"I can see how that would be squicky."

"Squicky?" She snickered. "Where'd you hear _that_ word?"

"Gwen." He reached for his jacket. "I have an idea. Let's you and I check out the last scene. Look for anything witch related."

"What, right now?" Jo stepped back, arms crossing. She seemed caught off guard by his suggestion.

"No time like the present." Come on, Jo, he thought. Come back to me.

"Cas -"

"Is with Gwen and Mark."

"Sam -"

"With Christian following up on some details from the first victim."

Her teeth grazed her lower lip.

"Come on," he coaxed. "We'll just, uh, _poke_ around." Dean waggled his brows at her until she smiled.

"Okay. We'll go poke around." Raising a finger, she pointed it at him. "But this doesn't mean I'm back in the game."

"Of course not. You're just an extra set of eyes in case I miss something."

"Like you miss anything." She put her jacket on.

"I have on occasion missed some doozies."

The crime scene was as bad as some he'd seen and worse than others. Dean no longer felt the urge to puke at seeing the aftermath of carnage. Was that a bad thing?

There was no one at the scene. They had it to themselves. Jo slid on a pair of plastic gloves and began looking for a hex bag as she continued their conversation from the car ride over. "I died, Dean. It was a painful death. I think it's sort of understandable I'm reluctant to do that dance again."

"And you're preaching to the choir. I had those sons of bitches maul me a lot worse than you got, then drag my soul to hell. I relive that moment over and over in my dreams and that's just one of my nightmares. I've been shot pointblank, stabbed, poisoned, and a ton of other not so fun deaths."

"Death is not fun," she agreed, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"I agree. He's something of a killjoy."

"Huh?" She frowned.

"This is our job, Jo." Dean gestured between them. "This is our calling, and at the end of the day, we suck it up and get back out there because the world needs people like us. We're not normal and we ain't ever gonna be that. This is in our blood and we are in for life. You used to know all this. You used to _get_ it, so what's different now?"

Had he really just given her the same speech he'd gotten from Sam recently? And the one Ellen had given him in his sleep?

"I'm tired and I don't feel like I belong here." She snorted. "Castiel really bared all to you already, didn't he? When was your chat? Last night while I was asleep? Man, I knew he'd do something like this. Him and his stupid only three hours of sleep gives him way too much time on his hands." Crouching down, she felt behind the wall of the entertainment center.

"Yeah, we talked, but Jo, I've been where you are."

"Right. When," she demanded.

"Back a little while after you and Ellen died and it looked like there was no way to stop Lucifer. I had this whole 'let it come' thing going on. Let it all end and be over." He crouched down as well to feel under the coffee table. "I had it bad, too. Ask Sam. Ask Cas or, hell, go ask Bobby."

"Bobby doesn't know I'm alive." She groaned. "Oh crap. Bobby doesn't know I'm alive."

"We'll take care of it. Point is, I was right there not that long ago. I remember that feeling."

"You?"

"Me, and if we're telling the truth here, I'm still having trouble these days."

"You don't look it." She stood back up.

"Well, I can bluff with the best when I have to. You and me, Jo, we're kind of in the same place here." Finding nothing, he stood and stepped over to her. "What's say we get back in the boat together, go kill some monsters, and save a few people?" He held out his glove encased hand. "I will if you will."

Jo looked down at it.

"You had my back in Carthage. You died having my back. Let me have your back now."

Slowly, she placed her hand in his. When she looked up, he saw her blink fast a few times, as if clearing tears. She smiled. "And here I thought you wanted my front."

He winked at her. "Night's still young."

She laughed. "You going to buy me dinner?"

"I'll buy it for weeks with no strings attached. I respect that self-respect you have."

Her smile faded and she gave him a thoughtful look. "You've changed, Dean."

"So have you."

"You've changed, I've changed, everyone has changed. I guess it happens." Sighing, she held up an object. "But some things never do. Lookie what I found."

A hex bag.

* * *

Castiel was bored. Jo and Dean were having all the fun finding hex bags at crime scenes and Sam and Christian had discovered that the first victim's best friend's girlfriend was a witch. He didn't know how they'd found out that tidbit of information because he was stuck with Gwen and Mark. He didn't know how any of it connected because he was stuck here waiting. "Why can't we go help Sam and Christian?"

"Because we're teaching you this part of the job," Gwen explained.

"Sitting waiting for hours is boring." They'd waited through dinner and were now waiting into the evening in Mark and Christian's room.

"It sure is, but someone has to do it." She looked over at him. "We have to be ready as backup, Castiel. For either Dean and Jo or Sam and Christian. We pool all the information we get from both and make sure it all makes sense. We - "

"Sit and wait," he finished for her.

"Impatient, aren't you?"

Castiel stretched his legs out. Should he explain the reason for his impatience? "I was an angel, Gwen. I could search an entire town for one item in about five seconds, so waiting like this is boring."

"It's boring even if you're not used to searching an entire town in five seconds," Mark commented. "Consider it downtime. The next time you're the one out running around after having had only a couple hours of sleep, you'll think back on this moment and want it so bad you can taste it."

"I always only need a couple hours of sleep."

"Then you're damn lucky. You get my point, though?"

With a bored sigh, he reached for his notebook, the nice new one Sam had shoved at him earlier. "I do. You needn't worry about Dean, however. I've seen him work on no sleep at all. Besides, Jo will assist him. They'll be fine."

Mark and Gwen exchanged a glance. "Why do you think we're worried," Mark asked.

"Because you are."

"How do you know?" Gwen turned in her chair.

"I…I don't know. I just do. I feel it coming from both of you. You're worried about Dean."

There was a knock on the door and Mark opened it.

A pretty young maid stood there, a stack of towels in her hands. "The extra towels you asked for, sir."

"Did we get extra towels," he asked Gwen, who shrugged.

"Probably Christian since he tends to use three at a time. Thanks."

"I guess we did." Mark took the stack, closed the door, and put the towels in the bathroom. He returned to looking at his notebook, occasionally doodling on a page.

Gradually, Castiel noticed that something wasn't right. The air was all wrong in the room. Castiel could feel it, but what was different? Had it been something he'd said? He couldn't think of anything particularly inflammatory that he might have said.

"I don't feel right." Mark mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his hoodie. He was sweating.

"Don't feel right how?" Gwen looked up from her notes. She was sweating as well now, one hand rubbing across her stomach.

Odd. Castiel felt fine. He blotted his brow just to make sure he, too, wasn't sweating. Nope, no sweat.

"Hungry." Mark cleared his throat. The sound was wet.

"Me, too." Gwen shook her head, glance honing in on Castiel. "Weird. I just ate like an hour ago, but I'm starving."

Nope, he wasn't hungry either.

"I want meat."

"Rare meat." With a noise of disgust, Gwen shuddered. "I don't like rare, but it sounds so good!"

Castiel frowned, suddenly noticing that both Gwen and Mark were staring at him now instead of only Gwen. They leaned forward towards him.

"Hungry," they said in unison.

Getting up, he edged towards the bathroom. Their eyes followed him and he felt the tension in the room ratchet up higher. They stood. Mark should have been moving slow because of his back, yet he moved with no trouble at all. This wasn't normal. Even after only a few hours, Castiel knew that.

Moving into the bathroom, Castiel slammed the door and engaged the lock. He leaned against the panel, pulled out his phone, and dialed Dean's number. "Hello, Dean. It's me. We may have a problem…."

As he relayed the situation, Castiel fumbled at the towels, the only new item in the motel room and as three hex bags were revealed (nasty ones if the weight and smell were any indication), he reached for the lighter in his pocket. Jo's mantra to always be prepared was coming in very handy right now.

* * *

_Get up now._

The voice was far too loud in Daphne's mind and she cried out from the pain, unable to move until that familiar voice lowered to a better level. She moved as it continued, telling her the situation.

Castiel was in trouble and she had to save him.

Stepping outside, she saw the young woman the voice mentioned. Daphne followed her to her car, her stride determined. The woman was only young on the outside. On the inside, she was ugly and ancient. Daphne could see the ugliness there in her. It was in times like this that she almost regretted the connection that allowed her to see what her mental and sometimes spiritual companion could see.

The young woman turned to face Daphne. "You following me?"

"Don't do it."

"Do what?"

"I know you left hex bags in that room with the towels."

"Hex what? I took in towels and nothing more."

"Don't lie to me."

For a second, it looked like the woman might protest again, but then she smirked. "Try and stop me." A few guttural words left her lips, words to a very dangerous spell.

Daphne was filled then, the connection giving her the power to act. Castiel was in danger and she'd do anything to protect him. Without hesitation, she stretched out her hand and grasped the woman by the throat. Power slid from her hand into the witch's body. The witch made a low moan, her eyes rolling back in her head and her body bucking as though an electric current was moving through her.

Perhaps one was.

Blood trickled from the witch's nose and ears and steam came off her flesh. With a squeeze of her hand, the woman's neck snapped.

Swallowing hard, Daphne released her. The witch slid to the ground, dead.

_You killed her_, Daphne thought, horrified by that action. Couldn't she have just incapacitated her?

_He must be protected_, came the answer in her mind. _You know that. We do whatever it takes and she wouldn't have stopped._

With a glance left and right and then behind her, Daphne dragged the body behind the car to buy some time, then returned to the room to wait, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She'd never been used to kill anyone or thing before. Events were fast moving to the point where she needed to leave them or be found out. It wouldn't take Sam and Dean Winchester long to understand what was different about her.

* * *

The problem for Jo was deeper than Dean had thought.

Upon bursting into the room and finding Gwen and Mark gasping on the floor and Castiel cautiously coming out of the bathroom, he'd watched Jo go to Cas and drag him to one chair. She'd looked him over, demanded to know how he felt, looked at his eyes like a doctor did, and took his pulse. She was helping him and so deep into helping Castiel, that he was her focus. She was trying to make him her purpose and while Dean could understand why, he agreed with Castiel that she needed a different purpose to her life.

Catching Dean's eye, Castiel grasped Jo's hands and set them from him. "I'm fine, Jo. It's Mark and Gwen who need looked at, not me."

"I take it you found the hex bags?" Dean stepped into the bathroom and bent over the sink to study the charred remains. He was very glad Castiel was carrying around a lighter in his pocket. Must have been Jo who'd told him to do that, as he knew she usually had one in a pocket for hunting purposes. Did she still? "Fast thinking with the lighter, Cas."

"Thank you. There were three of them wrapped in the towels, which means it must have been the maid who came to the door. I'm uncertain how she found us so fast since we'd barely begun our investigation."

"Bitch," Gwen gasped as she pushed herself up onto her knees.

Christian and Sam appeared in the doorway.

"You mean the dead maid in the parking lot who looks like she had a bad encounter with a live wire?" Christian went to Mark and knelt down. "She may have followed us when we stopped here earlier."

Sam stepped inside and closed the door. "It's the same woman we learned about and she's freshly dead. Body is still warm."

Dean shrugged. "Good. Karma."

"Far as I know, karma doesn't break necks, Dean. Someone killed her."

Jo sat on one bed and looked around the room. "We need to vacate, find another motel before the police come and we have to answer questions."

"I agree," Christian helped Mark to his feet. "Find a new place, go over everything, make sure it all lines up before we blow town."

Moving back into the room, Dean nodded. "Jo, you and Cas get Daphne and your things packed up. Gwen, you and Christian do this room and yours. Mark, you help Sam with the case materials, make sure we don't leave anything. I'll be in in a minute. I want to take a look at this witch."

The body was hidden between the car and the fence and Dean made sure no one was in the area before he approached it. He didn't think anyone in this part of the city would own up to seeing anything, but best to minimize the possibility.

The way the body was burned was reminiscent of the way an angel burned a demon out, but not as bad. The eyes weren't completely gone and blood streaked her face and neck. The woman's head was at an angle. Was she the only witch at work here? Was this backlash from a spell gone wrong or was there some _thing_ that had done this to her?

Dean considered the backlash angle, but while it'd explain the burned look of the body, it didn't explain the broken neck. The only thing that explained it, and how the body was hidden, was that some one or thing had killed her. Maybe a fellow witch, maybe someone else.

Standing, he raised his gaze to the entrance to the parking lot. A woman stood there, mostly in shadow and he raised a hand, trying to shield his eyes from light to see her better. It seemed to be the same woman he'd been getting brief glimpses of all over the country and he moved around the car and towards her, intending on questioning her.

In a single blink, she disappeared and an uneasy sensation crawled up his spine. There'd been no sound of wings, so she wasn't an angel, but what was she?

What the hell was going on?


	20. Chapter 20

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twenty  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

When no new victims showed up, the group headed out in a caravan going west towards Bobby's house. They still had no idea what the witch's motivation had been or exactly how she'd drained her first victim, but Sam made a note to keep checking the area news for awhile longer.

He was glad they weren't wasting time going to tell Bobby about Jo. Bobby would be pissed if they didn't tell him immediately and it'd be good for them all to have a rest. Sam finished his sandwich and threw away the wrapper. They were briefly stopped at a rest stop on an old highway, the sort of rest area most states were tearing down these days.

Jo was leaning against the railing staring at the pretty view. She was by herself at present.

Sam joined her. "Not hungry?"

"Not really. It felt strange, you know? Working a job after having been out even though all I did was search for hex bags."

"Are you okay?"

"I guess."

"It feel anything but strange?"

"I'm not sure yet. I have to think about it a little more." She licked her lips. "It was good to spend time with Dean. I didn't know just how much I've missed you guys until we met up."

Sliding his hands into his jacket pockets, he turned his back on the view, looking at the rest of the group. Dean was watching Castiel and Daphne, who were feeding each other bits of sandwich and chips. Mark and Christian were going over data, and Gwen…. Hard to tell really with her sunglasses on, but she appeared to be watching Castiel and Daphne as well, her usual blue slushie in hand.

"Dean asked what my plans are."

"What are they?" He shivered a little as a gust of wind hit him.

"Hell, Sam, I have no idea." She turned like he was, leaning against the railing. "Should I leave Castiel here with you guys and head out alone? Seriously. Should I go?"

"Don't go, Jo. You should stay. After the year Dean had, you should stay."

She transferred her gaze over to where Dean sat. "Did he love her? Lisa?"

"I don't know. He never said. I knew he thought about her before the apocalypse. I knew he thought her life was perfect and normal. It's why I made him promise to go to her before we took on Lucifer. She was single and I thought he should try to get out. Have a normal life with the girlfriend and her kid, the house, and a job that wasn't likely to get him killed." He sighed. "I don't know if he loved her. I don't think it was love he felt, not the lasting love anyway, but I don't know. Not something we've discussed." Sam turned and leaned sideways against the railing facing her. "It's over between them. She and Ben have new identities and she's gone. She wanted it that way and I agree with her. It was better for both of them."

"I wondered. He didn't seem heartbroken when he told me about them, just…sad."

"He told you?"

Jo nodded. "The other night."

"You talked about a lot, then."

"We went through over a year of events. He told me all about his life out and grieving for you, then the Djinn, and I told him what I remembered about heaven and what Cas and I have been up to. It was a pretty good give and take conversation on both our parts."

Shifting his attention to Daphne, he asked, "Dean ask about Daphne?"

"Of course. Everyone wants to know about Daphne. Dean, Gwen, you." She stepped from the railing. "What's to tell? The girl is who she says she is. I looked her up in every database I could get myself into and she's definitely Daphne Allen. She likes to travel, comes from money, is addicted to pencil puzzles like sudoku, went all goofy over Castiel in about three seconds, and likes to spend her money on people she likes. She's also too perfect, like she was made to be exactly what Castiel needs in a woman right now, changing with his emotional changes. Hard to explain, really, but as perfect as she is and all, she's been trustworthy."

"They look sweet together."

"Sweet?"

Daphne leaned back and shook the single serving chip bag. Her head tilted a little to the right as if she was listening to something, but Castiel wasn't saying anything. He was drinking his soda.

"Sweet," he confirmed. "She's not an angel, is she?" Sam laughed. "Silly question, I guess. Angels don't really do sweet. They're more inclined towards manipulation and threats."

Daphne frowned.

"She could be one if she's jumping in and out of her vessel all the time. Do they do that? Cas didn't think she is. I did a bunch of tests. She doesn't seem to be any of the things we test for. Maybe she's just a weird, naïve woman who's socially awkward?"

A smile curved Daphne's lips and she reached into the chip bag and pulled out a chip, feeding it to Castiel.

"Or maybe she's something we don't know about yet. Rumor is that Lucifer and Raphael both let a lot of things out to play."

"Could be, I guess. I don't know. She hasn't betrayed us, Sam, and Cas trusts her. I told Dean, Castiel has really good gut instincts and I meant it. If he says we can trust her, we can."

They chatted for a bit longer until everyone was ready to go.

* * *

Samandriel hated the waiting. He hated having to sit around hoping for news, yet that's exactly what had been happening. He'd been playing the waiting game and it had gotten old.

Rachel couldn't find Dean Winchester. He'd simply disappeared off the radar, but Samandriel would have heard about it if Dean had died. That news would have echoed throughout heaven, especially with Raphael ruling. He still hadn't forgiven Dean for something Dean and Castiel had done. Samandriel wasn't sure what that thing was and hadn't asked mainly because Raphael was annoyed with a lot of people and angels for various reasons. Those two were simply two of many in a very long list.

He paced the corridor, glancing up every now and then to see if Noelle was approaching. She'd been out of contact for awhile, so her sudden message asking to see him made him hopeful that she'd accomplished something. It'd be nice if one thing went the way they needed it to.

She turned the corner and moved in close, her voice at a whisper. "Nia knows where Castiel is. She's willing to arrange a meeting."

"Are you serious?" Joy filled him. The search for Dean Winchester had not gone well, so it was nice to hear that they'd managed to locate Castiel.

"Yes."

"How did she find him?"

"She didn't tell me. She says you need to be in Sioux Falls at Bobby Singer's house in two days. Go to the pasture that is at the north end of his property. She'll meet you there."

"And he'll be with her?"

She drew back, expression unreadable. "Just show up, okay?"

With a glance left and right, Noelle hurried away and Samandriel went back to the waiting game for two more days. Finally, something was going as planned.

* * *

Castiel had made a decision and it had been a difficult one. He'd gone to Dean, Sam, and Jo for advice as soon as they'd reached Bobby's house. Looking at his life, where it was going and where he wanted it to go, keeping Daphne with them was not good for her.

He watched Daphne flipping through a magazine on guns and ammunition and felt the tiniest ache in his chest. It wasn't a terrible ache, yet there nonetheless.

Dean had pressed him into a long discussion about her, making sure every angle was gone over and when they'd finished, he'd had the same conversation with variations in content from Sam and Jo. There was a chance that Daphne would get caught by something bad and Castiel didn't want that to happen to her. He wanted her to stay safe and live a long, full life, and that meant breaking up with her. She wasn't a hunter and didn't know how to protect herself, so this action he was going to take was necessary.

No one had tried to talk him out of it. Dean and Sam had merely exchanged a glance and nodded and Jo had given him a hug, urging him to think about his word choices before he blurted it out to Daphne. Good advice, but now that he'd made a decision, he wanted it over. As much as he liked and loved Daphne, he couldn't keep her in danger. It was a difficult thing to accept, but he knew he had to.

"We're getting pizza. You and Daphne coming?"

He looked up. Dean was pulling on his jacket. "I think -"

"Yes," Jo answered for them. "They're coming with. We all need a good meal together."

He'd intended on asking Daphne to take a walk with him and Jo answering for them annoyed him, no matter how well meaning he knew her to be right then.

Daphne shrugged and got up from the couch. "Sure."

Jo drove them to Bobby's favorite pizza place. They were the last to arrive and Castiel ended up sitting between Mark and Sam, while Daphne was down at the other end between Bobby and Christian. Jo, of course, was next to Dean with Gwen. There was no way to make private conversation with Daphne and he wondered if Jo had arranged it that way to make him have time to think about that conversation he needed to have.

When the server came around, he ordered a beer and paused a moment before giving his pizza order. "I'd like a small with extra sauce, mushrooms, pineapple, and," he lifted his chin slightly, "anchovies."

"Make it a medium," Mark closed his own menu. "I'll split it with you. Unless anyone else wants to have some?"

There were shudders from everyone else at the table. Not many people were a fan of anchovies he'd noticed.

When the server had gone, Castiel eyed Mark with interest. "You like anchovies?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Everyone else at this table."

"I never thought of adding pineapple before, though. Should be tasty."

"Gross," came Gwen's commentary from her place on Dean's other side. "I'll try just about anything, but anchovies are disgusting."

He was surprised when she winked at him before turning to reply to something Jo said, but Gwen seemed to be one of those naturally flirtatious women. It didn't mean anything.

The meal was relaxed and when they returned to the house, it was a natural thing to ask Daphne to take a walk with him. He felt better prepared to discuss the matter with her.

"The stars are so pretty out here," she commented, looking up at the sky. "Thousands of them."

"Yes. They're pretty. Um…. Daphne, we need to talk." He took Daphne's hands in his.

"Yes?" She smiled, turning to face him.

He almost chickened out, as Dean would put it, but pushed forward through that urge. "Daphne, this is difficult to say, so bear with me, please. I've been doing a lot of thinking and…I belong here with my friends. I can't justify dragging you around the country as we work. The risk of you getting hurt is too high and I don't want you getting hurt. I would rather you go home and live to live a long life. You deserve a man who -"

Her smile faded. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"I…yes. I am." He waited, wondering if she was going to start crying. He'd been told women sometimes did at this moment.

Sadness slid into her eyes and she pulled her hands free from his, turning her back to him. "I knew it was coming."

"You did? How?"

"Come on, Castiel. Do you really think I didn't know how much you love these people? I knew you'd choose them. You chose them before. Besides, I know I don't quite fit. It's obvious and has been from the first."

He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

Turning back, she cupped his face with her hands. "Don't be. I'm not hurt. They're worthy. I'm not sad that I got to know you and learn about you. I can't regret that." Moving onto tiptoe, she placed a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "Keep my number in your phone. Call if you need anything."

Castiel blinked as she walked away. That had gone surprisingly better than he (and Dean, Sam, and Jo) had thought it would. Why did that worry him?

* * *

After Castiel and Daphne had left on their walk, Jo had fully expected Daphne to return upset, but the woman had merely asked Jo to drive her back to the motel. She was calm, cool, and collected. Jo drove her, waiting for the moment when Daphne would start crying and it didn't happen.

Daphne opened her suitcase and began to put her toiletries inside it.

"Daphne?" Jo leaned against the dresser, watching her closely. She was the serious Daphne right now, the one that always seemed slightly off to Jo and different from the young woman she usually was. Her second personality, Jo had come to think of it as.

"Yes, Jo?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. No." Sighing, she sat on the edge of the bed. "I hadn't expected to become this attached to him."

Jo frowned. This from the woman who'd gone gaga for Cas in seconds upon him feeling better? "You hadn't?"

"No. He's special."

She resisted the urge to say he was 'special ed'.

"Will you make sure she knows that? Gwen, I mean."

"Wait…. You knew Gwen's had her eye on him?"

"Of course. I'm not dumb, Jo, and she's not particularly subtle. It's inevitable. He'll move to her next I think. Our relationship was…sweet, I think Sam called it."

"Sam said that to you?" He'd said it to Jo on the way to Bobby's, but Jo hadn't thought he'd actually say it to Daphne.

She closed the lid of her suitcase, not answering the question. "Sweetness has it's place, but as a man develops, passion becomes necessary. He needs passion now and I can't give him the level of passion he needs."

"Gwen can?"

"What do _you_ think?" Her tone was dry and mildly amused.

Jo thought Gwen was going to snap him up as fast as she could get him interested.

In a quick movement, she zipped the case. "Castiel…. He's unlike any…any_one_ I've known." Daphne smiled and, for a second, seemed far older than her years. "He's not 'special ed' either, Jo. He's merely unique. One of a kind, especially now."

"He is."

Jo walked with her to the front desk, where Daphne checked out.

Daphne extended the handle on her case. "I need to go. I'm meeting an old friend from home. I'd hoped to introduce all of you, but that can't happen now."

She'd disappeared before Jo realized that Daphne had never asked for her car keys back. Jo left a message for her and drove back to Bobby's house. Daphne would just have to come there and retrieve it.

* * *

The time had come. Samandriel slipped from heaven to the meeting place. A woman was waiting, a suitcase beside her.

"You're Samandriel?"

"Yes. You're Nia?" She had a different air about her than the classes of angels he was used to speaking with and he tried to remember anything he knew about her. The facts were few. All he really knew was that she was one of Gabriel's Garrison and looked very different in her vessel than most angels. There was something weird about it and he studied her, trying to figure it out. It was almost as if she wasn't really there inside her vessel, but that couldn't be.

"I'm Nia."

Samandriel craned his neck to look around her. "Where's Castiel? Noelle said you'd found him."

She crossed her arms. "He can't lead your rebellion, Samandriel, not if you want it soon. He's not ready. He's in a constant state of flux."

"And you know that how?"

"I've evaluated him the past two months. I've been closer than anyone and, in all honesty, it's best he remain with Jo Harvelle and the Winchester brothers. He needs to learn what they have to teach and he needs time to heal from everything Raphael did to him."

"I thought you were bringing him back to us. I thought -"

"My concern is Castiel. I'm committed to helping him, but if you're so concerned about your rebellion, then move forward without him."

"How, exactly, do we do that? He's the reason we're doing this. How do I go back and tell all those angels that we have no leader?"

She sighed and tucked her dark hair behind her ears with slender fingers. "They have a leader at present."

He stared at her in question.

"You. You're the one who's rallied them this time, not Castiel. You can progress in this fight for now without him."

"No, we can't. He's essential."

"Why? Why is he so essential? Why can't you all just let him be? Leave him alone. Why not let him go? Can heaven not survive without him? I think it can. I think it should. I think it and all of the angels there should release him from any obligations. Hasn't he done enough? Must you all drain him dry?" She moved close and he felt a crackling of power in the air around them. "Do you not understand that what Raphael attempted to do to him had consequences?"

"She tried to make him human."

"And in the process, she upset some very delicate matters that are slowly being corrected, but Castiel needs time to finish healing and become what he's meant to be."

"Become what he's meant to be? What does that mean?"

"It means he can't lead you, at least not until the process is completed and maybe not even then."

"When will that be," he demanded, feeling the rise of panic inside him. Raphael was tearing heaven apart and this strange angel wanted him to wait?

"A day. A week. A month. A year. I don't know. Raphael screwed it all up with her interference in his development."

"More angels will die."

"Then they die." Her shrug was unconcerned. "What do I care for heaven? I'm not welcome there. None of us in the Garrison are."

With a jolt, he realized she _wasn't _in her vessel. His first impression had been the right one. She was merely speaking through her, using her as a channel without actually being in her. "How are you doing that? How are you using this woman like this?" He turned his attention first upward to the sky and then around him, trying to figure out where Nia herself actually was. She had to be close.

Her expression turned sad. "It's a very long story. Maybe some day I'll tell you. Goodbye, Samandriel." She turned away.

"Who are you working for," he blurted out.

Nia looked over her shoulder at him. "Excuse me?"

"Who are you working for?"

"Gabriel's Garrison, but you already know that." She walked away across the field.

Just what sort of interest did Gabriel's Garrison have in Castiel that she'd been observing him? Why did they care if heaven left Castiel alone?

Samandriel returned to heaven, more confused than ever.

* * *

The angel Nia didn't often dwell on how she'd gotten where she was or why God sometimes called on her to work. She'd once been a Watcher, a class of angels that had been charged with studying humanity and reporting their findings to Michael. It was supposed to have been an observational position, a way to help all of them feel more at ease with the creation of humanity. She'd never had a vessel of her own or the ability to even take a vessel the traditional way.

She, and the others, had abused their position. They'd seen a chance to teach the humans and advance their knowledge, yet doing so had been against their orders. They weren't supposed to have fraternized with them or taught them spells, yet they had. They'd found a way around not being able to take a vessel. The price for disobedience was the loss of access to heaven for her and death for the rest. The only reason she was alive was because she'd been the leader.

Nia was the last of her class of angel.

While unable to take a vessel, she could use some rare individuals as conduits, to see and hear what they saw and heard, and act through them. The reason for punishment in the first place, but as she'd been released from her heavenly obligation a long time ago, Nia had no problem with utilizing that ability.

Daphne was one of those rare individuals, one of few born in centuries. She'd been a good medium and one Nia had been using for several years now. When she'd seen what was happening in the world, she'd allowed herself to be found by the Garrison. In her natural form, none of them could hurt her. The knives that killed her class had long since been destroyed, though there could still be one in the weapons archives somewhere. Michael may have kept one back in case he'd needed it in the future.

The Garrison had needed her expertise to avoid Raphael's agents and she'd come to an agreement with them. They worked together for the good of the Garrison. Besides, she'd liked Gabriel. He'd always been good to her.

But then Daphne had heard the message for both of them to go to Castiel. It hadn't been only Daphne called. God had wanted both of them there.

Castiel. She'd never heard his name until Lucifer had been raised, then fell, and the Garrison had come to her, telling her everything that had happened. She'd learned about the Winchester brothers and how Castiel had shown the angels that they did have a free will after all. They'd painted Castiel a hero who had done more for heaven than any other angel. They'd spoken of him as warmly as they did Gabriel.

Nia had made use of Daphne to get to know Castiel and what she'd found had astonished her.

Castiel hadn't been made human at all.

If she was reading the evidence correctly, Castiel was developing into a new class of angel. Raphael had mucked up the process by paralyzing Castiel's standard issue and slightly upgraded angelic abilities, but not stopped it or hurt it. It'd continue around the paralysis, making him the perfect sort of angel to actually live most of his time on earth. Once the paralysis lifted, and Nia was sure it would, he'd have a handle on the human part of living and would be very much like what she'd been only improved, perfected. He'd be the best angel to educate the rest of them on humanity.

She hoped she was right and hoped that was why she and Daphne had been sent to him. So she'd recognize the changes and be able to testify to them later.

Returning Daphne to her home in Colorado, she met up with the Garrison and relayed what she'd learned.


	21. Chapter 21

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twenty-one  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Morning at Bobby's house could either be quiet or chaotic, Dean reflected, pouring a cup of coffee and going to the door to step outside. Bobby had left early to meet up with Rufus, telling them not to break anything or if they did, to fix it before he got back.

While they'd done a few day trips recently, they'd been staying close to Sioux Falls since Castiel had broken up with Daphne. Dean had thought Cas might need some time to process it and sticking close gave Mark's back a chance to heal. Bobby had been tolerant of them all being there, but only because the cousins made a point of either staying out of his way or 'earning their keep' by doing such things as taking phone duty, thereby giving Bobby a well deserved break.

He yawned as he went out the door to see what exactly was going on.

Jo was standing beside Daphne's car, though perhaps it wasn't Daphne's anymore? She seemed unconcerned about getting it back, sending Castiel a simple text telling him to 'keep it', which had probably led to the argument Dean was now witnessing. Jo had been driving it, but Castiel had definitely shown an interest in doing so himself. She grasped the car door. "Out of the car, Cas."

He ran his hands over the steering wheel. The gleam in his eyes was anticipatory. "I wish to drive."

"After your _last_ try? Sweetheart, get out of the car. I can't in good conscience inflict you on other drivers."

"Wait, he can't drive?" Dean looked at him, wondering what had happened on his last try. "Cas, man, did you lie to me?" Dean set his coffee down. He remembered quite clearly asking if Castiel knew how to drive and that Cas had told him he did. "You said you knew."

Castiel adjusted the mirrors. "Can't is a matter of opinion, Jo and no, Dean I didn't lie. I do know how."

Jo snorted. "It's the opinion of both me and Daphne that you can't drive."

"Daphne is no longer here." Reaching down, he adjusted the steering wheel now.

"That hardly invalidates her opinion or mine. You ignore the posted speed limits, tailgate like there's no tomorrow, stop too fast, make illegal u-turns, and have no concept of lanes when turning."

"I watched Dean drive many times," he replied.

Dean held up his hands. "I don't do that stuff." When Jo raised her brows, he added, "usually."

"Dean." She tapped the fingers of one hand on the door.

"Okay, I'll give you the speed limit and u-turns, but other than those two, I'm a damn good driver."

"I know what I'm doing," Castiel insisted. "I also watched you and Daphne. I understand the process."

"Seeing isn't the same as having the actual skill." Jo looked like she was beginning to grind her teeth. "You may know, but you don't do."

"Sadly, I am aware of that fact and of the fact that Jimmy's skill wasn't retained in muscle memory. Hence my need for practice." His jaw set in a stubborn line as he reached for the door handle and tugged.

"Why wasn't the skill retained?" Dean reached for his coffee and tried to take a sip without burning his tongue, but it was still too hot.

"Because he's not here," was Castiel's distracted answer as he temporarily stopped trying to close the door and readjusted the rearview mirror. "Didn't you and I cover that topic of him already?"

"Sure, but him going off to heaven doesn't explain why the muscle memory wouldn't be there." Dean shrugged. "Unless you're not actually in his body anymore and this one was created for you. Brand new body, without the original muscle memories."

"Don't be absurd. Of course this body is…." He stopped and took a long breath in, shooting an annoyed stare Dean's way before he blew that breath back out. "You're trying to distract me from my goal," he accused and was partly right.

Dean blew on his coffee that was still too hot to drink, completely unrepentant about that attempt at distraction.

Castiel gave a hard tug on the door that caused Jo to relinquished her grip.

She sighed. "No amount of practice will fix this. Face it, driving just isn't in your skill set, Cas."

"I won't face it because it will be. I just need to put in the practice hours."

With a roll of her eyes, Jo turned to Dean. "I seriously thought I was going to die when I tried to teach him."

"I _need_ this skill," Castiel insisted. "As a human male, I have to drive. It's an essential part of being a man. I am less of a man without this skill. Tell her, Dean."

"Plenty of people don't drive. Tell him, Dean."

He shot an apologetic glance at Jo, "It is sort of essential to being a man, Jo," then one at Castiel, "and she's right, too, Cas. There are people who don't drive and, in my opinion, they don't know what they're missing."

Castiel raised a brow at her. "See? I'll have this skill if I have to practice for days to get it right. Now, I've adjusted the mirrors, seat, and steering wheel. Which one of you is going to assist me?"

Dean considered everything Jo had said and had what he thought was a genius idea. Swallowing a grin, he leaned down and said in Jo's ear, "Go get Gwen."

"Why?"

"I have an idea."

"Spill."

"I think feminine persuasion will work a lot better on him than the threats you and I would make."

She turned her attention to Castiel, gaze thoughtful. "Good point. I'll go get her."

After a week passed of Gwen taking Castiel down back roads for hours at a time and Dean wondering if she had a death wish once he'd gone along for an hour, Jo finally pronounced Castiel no longer a danger to other drivers. His smug smile had even irritated Dean, yet he had to admit that it was good to see him adjusting and pushing himself to learn all the skills he needed. Now to get him decent with a gun.

* * *

Learning to drive was one of the best boosters to Castiel's self confidence.

Gwen's proposed game of "strip written driving test" had been a marvelous motivator in learning the rules of the road. For each right answer, she said she'd make one move towards undressing, such as undoing a button. For every wrong answer, she'd redo a button or add a piece of clothing.

Castiel had studied tirelessly for days, asking Sam, Christian, and Dean to drill him on the rules and taking in all their advice on studying. Dean had commented that he was proud of how Castiel was applying himself. Cas didn't feel the need to inform Dean of Gwen's proposal. He'd merely nodded and kept the goal of getting Gwen naked through an entire test of correct answers firm in his mind. However, he'd felt mildly cheated when she'd given him the written test wearing a shirt that had the exact same number of tiny buttons on it that were on the test. He hadn't been aware that shirts came with buttons that small.

There was a word for that behavior and he believed it was 'tease'.

Still, he wasn't too disappointed because that flirtatious glimmer in her eyes promised him they'd definitely get physical some day soon. He'd fast realized once Daphne was gone that Gwen's manner towards him wasn't merely her natural way of behaving. She was interested in him. After the initial sting of the breakup was over, he decided he was interested in her as well.

When it had come to the driving test, it had been Jo administering it with Dean as backup. She'd refused to even flash cleavage if he did well, but as their relationship wasn't that sort, he supposed he was okay with it. Besides, Gwen flashed cleavage when they got back.

He knew he'd been entirely too smug in proving Jo wrong, but he couldn't help it. He could drive now. How many angels had _that_ in their skill set? Former angels, anyway.

Castiel opened the browser and did his usual standard search, clicking on one intriguing story. "What about this one?" He slid the computer towards Dean.

"What about it?" Dean read through the article. "You know, 'man dies in freak accident' isn't always one of ours. Looks pretty explainable to me. Natural freak accident and not a freaky freak accident."

"But -"

"Let Sam and Mark do the digging, okay? It's time for your shooting lesson. Come on."

"But Dean, it says -"

"You're trying to procrastinate."

"We should go to Georgia, to this small town, and check it out. Freaky things do sometimes masquerade as natural things."

"You're stalling."

"I have a feeling about this."

"You have a feeling about anything that might get you out of shooting practice. You'll do anything to get out of it."

Maybe there was some truth to that, but this feeling was real. They needed to be in Georgia and as soon as possible. He turned to Jo, who was loading clips for him. "Jo. Tell him."

"Sweetheart, you can't get out of this. If you want to be a hunter, you have to practice these things. You'll get used to it, I promise."

"Jo, please."

"Look, I can give it to Sam and Mark to check out while you go with Dean."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

"Don't forget."

"Cas. I won't. Georgia. Freak accident."

But Mark and Sam didn't say anything about it when they got back. Their proposed destination was Missouri and Castiel was more than a little annoyed that they seemed to be ignoring his instincts on this. He thought he'd talk to Sam about it while they were out shopping for the trip.

* * *

Sam glanced at his watch for the fifth time in about twenty minutes.

They wandered the aisles of the grocery store, Cas occasionally picking items up, studying them, and putting them back down. He read all the nutrition labels and, while Sam supported that in general, the idea of this visit to the grocery store was to get in and out as fast as possible. At this rate, shopping for replacement groceries for Bobby and road trip provisions would take all afternoon.

"What all has Jo taught you," Sam asked. He'd gotten the picture that there were a lot of little things involved. "I mean, you look like you've adjusted pretty well."

"This and that. So many tiny nuances in behavior to learn since, you know, angels don't have that. Angels are fairly straightforward compared to humans." Unfolding a scrap of paper, he peered at it. "I'm now well-versed in humanity since I've had to be. Jo made me. She pointed out that there was no apocalypse putting the lights out so I needed to man up." He led the way into the feminine products aisle.

For some reason, Sam found the phrase 'man up' used as Cas was heading into that aisle funny. "Forceful."

"Jo has been like a mother and friend to me, Sam. Sometimes mothering requires harsh words of truth." He picked up a package of tampons, looked at it, exchanged it for a different brand, dropped it into the basket, and rounded the end of the aisle, stopping suddenly. Reaching out, he grabbed a package of peanut butter cups from the end cap. "I love peanut butter cups."

"And?"

"And what? Do you want some? They're yummy chocolaty goodness with a peanut butter center."

"No, thanks."

"Your loss. I'll get some for Dean, too." He tapped the sign with a finger. "They're on sale, two for a dollar. Jo says to always look for a sale. She's taught me to economize." He dropped five more in the basket, pursed his lips, and added four more. "Go on, Sam. And what?"

"And she dispenses those harsh words?"

"She does. She keeps me grounded and moving forward and I can't function without her." Castiel pushed the cart into the laundry aisle.

"Can't or won't?"

He did a half nod, half shake of his head and placed a jug of detergent in the cart. Sam didn't tell him he was crushing the peanut butter cups with it. For all he knew, Cas liked them that way. "Yes. We're a team."

"Like me and Dean."

"Yes. We're a good team I think. Speaking of teams, I told Jo about a possible case in Georgia. Did she tell you?"

Nice subtle change of topic, there. "She mentioned it, but we couldn't find anything in the article that hit either of our freak-o-meters. Mark checked a few other sources and I made a call, but it's not weird enough or freaky enough to warrant a visit."

"It is."

"Uh, no it isn't. I think I know -"

"Check again, Sam." He wheeled the cart down the card aisle and picked up two present bags and ribbons to decorate them. "I guarantee we need to be there."

"Well, you'll just have to find something else to convince us. Okay, I have to ask…_what_ are you doing?"

"I'm going to give Dean and Jo presents." He said it like Sam was slow for not realizing that. "They deserve presents. Jo deserves many for putting up with my growing pains and as for Dean, Daphne told me it's important to show your best friend that you care. This is me showing I care."

"Sure, but what are you giving Dean in this cart besides the peanut butter cups, because a bottle of Jack would work pretty well and the liquor aisle is -"

"I have a plan." A mischievous gleam took root in his eyes as he pushed the cart towards the checkout, ignoring the liquor aisle, probably because Dean was supposed to be restocking Bobby's liquor cabinet.

Three hours later, Castiel was ready to present his gifts. Sam smothered a smile at the look on Dean's face when Castiel handed him the bright orange bag with colorful bows and curled ribbon on it. Jo accepted her own pale pink package with a soft, "thanks."

"What's this?" Dean hefted the package and made no move to open it.

"Just open it." Jo began to open her own bag, something of a feat with the amount of tape Castiel had put on it. He'd practically covered both bags with tape. "Daphne got him started." She ripped the bag and pulled out her present: the box of tampons. Her sigh was weary. "You read my shopping list."

"You had them underlined four times," was Castiel's solemn reply.

She set the box aside and patted his hand with hers. "We'll go back over gift giving etiquette later."

"Can't wait to see what I got." Dean set the package on the table and opened it using his pocket knife to cut through the tape. "Laundry detergent, deodorant, and car air freshener."

Actually, it wasn't much different than some of the presents he and Dean had given each other over the years.

Castiel smiled. "You often told me cleanliness is important, Dean, and I know how much you love the Impala. Every lady deserves nice perfume."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

He held out the paper sack in his hands. "Here. These are also for you both. The peanut butter cups are for you and the Riesen is for Jo." He looked at them each in turn. "So…. I'm hungry. We should go to dinner. Sam pointed out that peanut butter cups aren't a meal despite them containing protein from the nuts."

"Sure." Dean sniffed the car air freshener. "Let's hit that bbq place on the highway."

Halfway through dinner, Sam realized that Gwen was flirting with Castiel.

Not that Castiel seemed aware of it. He was carefully tasting the food that Gwen had ordered for him and glancing about the table at everyone else.

Sam caught Dean's eye and directed a pointed glance Cas and Gwen's way.

Dean frowned, watched Gwen suck on a rib bone and Castiel watch her, then brushed his elbow against Jo.

It was sort of funny. Gwen was determined to seduce Castiel now that Daphne was gone and he either didn't understand or was pretending that was the case. Watching Cas, Sam started leaning towards pretending. He certainly didn't look like a guy who didn't get what was going on with her. He looked like a guy who was letting himself be chased.

Good for him, Sam thought, and when Christian and Dean started a betting pool later that night for when Gwen would succeed in seducing Castiel, he put his vote down for less than a week.

* * *

"Samandriel. A word in my office."

He followed Naomi inside, wondering what this was about. He'd carefully done what she'd asked, given no reason for her to suspect the efforts of the rebellion. Had she found out about the meeting with Nia?

She sat at her desk and folded her hands together, looking at him. Her expression was almost friendly, a frightening thing to see. "It's time we cleared up the misapprehension of yours that Castiel is in any sort of danger from me and my agents."

He had no reply to that. No danger? Naomi was dangerous to everyone.

"I'm aware of your concern for him and you can relax. He's not lost."

No, he wasn't. He and Jo had met up with the Winchester brothers and had been at Bobby Singer's house off and on for the past few weeks. Samandriel knew that. Nia had made him aware of that by asking to meet him there to talk.

"I've known exactly where Castiel is since he and the woman met up with the Winchester brothers and their cousins in Indianapolis." She rested a hand on the large book on her desk, sliding the tome slightly to one side.

He tried to see the title without success. "You knew where they were?"

Naomi's lips curved in what could have been the start of a smug grin. "Of course. I've had Dean Winchester hidden and tagged for months. He slept through that pain. I've since tagged Sam and their cousins and have made sure Jo Harvelle and Castiel are tagged as well."

She'd tagged them all like troublesome animals. For some reason, that annoyed Samandriel, though he tried not to let it show. No wonder Rachel hadn't found Dean when she'd searched. She hadn't had the frequency for the tag.

"Do you really think Gabriel's Garrison are rebels from heaven?"

The sudden switch of topics caught him off-guard. "Yes. They've killed -"

"Raphael's agents. Samandriel, I have more pieces on this board than you will ever dream of having, including your own ragtag band looking to free Castiel and return him to heaven. We're on the same side. I never would have given you asylum otherwise. Frankly, I'm pleased the Garrison were so convincing, though I suppose Azariel's melodramatic streak assisted in that endeavor. He _was_ friends with Gabriel before he was friends with Castiel."

"They're yours?"

"They sent me a report once they reached Dean to apprise me of the situation."

Her tone was all wrong and he didn't quite believe her. When he'd met Nia, she'd pleaded for Castiel to be left alone and kept out of heavens schemes. She'd given no indication that the Garrison were interested in Naomi's sort of plans.

"We need to continue on with the plan. Gather your troops. I predict we'll be ready to fight very soon."

What was her stake in this? He wanted to ask more, but knew better than to try. She was liable to retune his brain if he pissed her off.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to have a chat with Dean Winchester. It's time we met face to face."

As he leaned over to stand, he was able to read the title of the book. Spells for the Resurrection of High-Level Beings. What was she up to?


	22. Chapter 22

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn

Chapter: Twenty-two

Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

Notes:

While having family around and getting the chance to know them and work with them was something Dean was glad for, he was ready for it to be just him, Sam, Castiel, and Jo for awhile. Christian beat him to the topic as soon as the vampire nest was taken care of and they were back at the motel.

Christian drew him aside. "Mark and I are heading out as soon as we can pack up."

"Problem?"

"Nope. Project. That one you and I discussed. I heard back from one of my buddies. Sam might be right after all. He's heard some rumblings of displeasure about you and Sam and your…affiliations. Mark and I are going to check it out, see what we can learn. Gwen wants to stay here, keep helping you and Sam."

Dean chuckled at that last part. "Uh-huh. She wants to help herself to Cas is more like it." She'd been flirting rather aggressively with Castiel lately and Dean had come to realize that Cas wasn't as naïve about it as he pretended. He was letting Gwen chase him.

"True. If you need us on something, holler."

"Will do."

The two were gone after lunch and Jo and Gwen took Castiel out with them to see a movie. Dean was tempted to spoil the ending for Jo so she'd stay behind with him and Sam but didn't. He was trying to find more information on that article Castiel had found from Georgia when he heard the fluttering of wings behind him and Sam's startled gasp. He turned in the chair, half expecting to find that Castiel's wings had suddenly come back, but no, it was a woman standing there. She was dressed in a pantsuit and looked like the CEO of a company.

Great, he thought. Angels. Was she there to take Castiel away? Was she one of Raphael's lieutenants?

"Hello Dean. Sam." Her head inclined in a tiny nod. "I'm Naomi."

"What do you want," he asked, closing the lid of the computer. It wasn't a genial question as he wasn't in a genial mood where angels were concerned.

"I want to speak with you," she answered. "Both of you."

He exchanged a glance with Sam. When angels in general wanted to talk with them it was usually for nothing good. "So talk. What do you want?"

She took an unhurried tour of their room, peering into the bathroom and finally leaning against the dresser in a casual pose that was hardly casual at all. It was calculated. "Simple. We want to raise Gabriel and we need your assistance to do it."

"You what?" Disbelief was in Sam's voice.

Dean blinked. "Gabriel's dead. Lucifer killed him. Didn't you get the memo up there?"

"Of course we 'got the memo'. We obtained a drop of his blood that was procured before his death. It's stored in a special vault. Our presence in a human makes similar genetic changes to what a demonic presence makes in a human."

"And?" Where on earth had they managed to get some of Gabriel's blood? Dean didn't ask because he wasn't sure he particularly wanted to know.

"It's weak. Diluted by a human presence, but there's a way to do it. The single drop will suffice."

He crossed his arms. She hadn't done anything yet, but every word out of her mouth made him uneasy. "Say we agree, and we won't because he went out a hero unlike most of you dicks, then what's the deal? How is it possible? How do we raise a dead archangel?"

"Simple. Blood from a Selkie in seal form, a scale from a Naga, tears from a human that was once an angel, and a feather from an angel, the higher the power the better. And, of course, some part of the archangel's being. Once the ingredients are together, you say these words." She drew a piece of parchment from her jacket pocket and laid it on the table beside his hand. "I trust you know enough Enochian that I don't need to give you a pronunciation lesson?"

That was simple?

"Pretty convenient then that we've got Castiel with us." Sam snorted. "Who was it up there whispered to her highness that it'd be better to make Cas human than to kill him?"

Her smile was too innocent. "It _is_ quite a coincidence, isn't it?"

Dean didn't think Castiel had been made human after all, yet this angel seemed to think he was. Interesting. "What's the catch," Dean asked.

"Excuse me?"

"The catch, sister. There's always a catch. What is it?"

Naomi's eyes narrowed. "There's a slight chance that he'll be raised to his original settings. By my calculations it's only a mere one in seventeen billion chance. Hardly a chance at all."

Dean looked at Sam and together they told her, "No."

Their answer appeared to stun her. Her lips parted and she studied them both for several seconds before asking, "What?"

"No. We're," Dean gestured between himself and Sam, "saying no."

"Why? Don't you wish for heaven to be stable again?"

"Sure, but this ain't our fight."

"You _can't_ say no." Naomi straightened, standing tall.

"Looks like we just did." Sam put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

She shook her head. "You have to."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Man, you flying dicks never learn. We've got free will, lady. That means we don't have to do anything. It's our choice."

Naomi stepped closer. "Does your feeble little human brain even understand the trouble that some of us have gone through to lay out the pieces for you? All you have to do is finish it."

"Feeble? Stop with the compliments already. I'm gonna blush."

"We've heard that whole 'all you have to do' line before." Sam took a couple casual steps towards his jacket, where Dean knew one angel blade was always kept. "From Zachariah, from Michael. Lucifer. It's a common refrain from all of you."

"Think about this before you say no. Gabriel will restore Castiel's powers and the two of them will take heaven together. He can undo what Raphael has done and it'll all be over. Castiel will be welcomed home as a hero, home where he belongs. It's that simple. All you have to do is complete the spell. Well, that and gather the last couple pieces for it. You'll find a Naga -"

Dean had to marvel at how she just assumed they'd fall in line. When had they ever fallen in line for the angels? "We'll pass."

Her snort was loud and not very ladylike. "You have to do it."

"You keep saying that, like it means anything to us. Get someone else. Or better yet, do your own dirty work and lead your own coup." It'd never happen. The angels didn't have the guts now. From what Dean understood, the angels had been splitting into different factions since the day Castiel had first shown signs of having free will back before Michael had gone into the cage. He thought that uniting them against Raphael would be a lot harder than simply raising Gabriel from the dead.

"Oh, believe me, I would if I could. This spell can't be performed by an angel. It has to be performed by a human who both knew and liked the archangel."

An odd spell. Sounded almost like a joke to him. "Where did you say you got this spell?"

"I didn't say and heaven has resources you don't."

"Who said we liked him," Sam asked. One hand slid under the folds of jacket fabric.

"Please." She rolled her eyes. "If he'd lived, the three of you would have eventually become drinking buddies. Dean, you and Gabe would have compared brothels."

She had a point. "This spell you have specifically states that? That the archangel had to be liked?"

"Yes."

"Ensuring the dead stay dead, because I gotta say, you guys pretty much suck. Especially the archangels. Lucifer is a condescending dick, Michael is as bad, and don't get me started on Raphael. I'll admit Gabriel did show a spine at the end, but before that he was just like the others."

She sighed, her irritation beginning to show. "I suppose they can all be…difficult. What do you expect of the best and brightest of the angels?"

"He'll stay dead. As it should be."

"What will it take to convince you?" Naomi glanced at the door into the next room. "Would you like to lose Jo again? I know you're attached to her. You're developing feelings for her. Or what about your newfound relatives?"

A cold feeling grew in his belly. "Threats don't tend to work well with us. You follow through with either of those and you'll find yourself dead."

She crossed her arms. "Is this how you repay me?"

"Repay _you_?"

"Yes, Dean. Sam. I gave you family back. I found them and arranged for them to be here for you. Sam, you're very lucky that it was one of my agents who saw you wandering around and not Raphael's. Raphael would have had you killed. I, on the other hand, made sure your last remaining family members found you and cared for you. Surely I get some goodwill points for that?"

"How exactly did you do that?" Dean could hear the anger in his voice. Was she saying that she'd engineered their return to hunting? Was she that Machiavellian as to do such a thing on the chance they'd be needed? After all he knew the angels capable of, it wouldn't surprise him. "Did you have their lives destroyed just to return them to hunting?"

Shock rippled across her face. "Of course not. Working with monsters would be distasteful and stupid. Is that what you think of us?"

"If the shoe fits," Sam told her.

"No. I would never…. Holiness has no place with demons or monsters." Naomi shook her head. "I simply steered the three to find Sam and, when the time was right, I allowed Sam to remember. I gave Gwen the pieces of the genealogy and gave you more people to care about."

Dean snorted. "You are some piece of work."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

With a sigh, she asked, "Do you think my job is easy?"

"Sweetheart, I don't know what your job is."

"I protect heaven from anything that may tear it asunder, including rogue archangels who've wrested control through nefarious means. Castiel's powers were boosted for a reason when God raised him. He was shown favor and that, to me, indicates that he is part of heaven's future in some way, not Raphael. Raphael must go and the only way to do it with the least amount of bloodshed is if Gabriel returns and sides with Castiel. Gabriel was well liked and his approval of Castiel will turn the power base from Raphael."

Now he thought he understood. If she managed to arrange all of that, she'd have even more power. "You want to be the king maker."

"Perhaps."

"You're a big picture angel." Sam grasped his jacket and took it to the dresser, placing him on Naomi's other side.

"Always." She turned to keep him in her line of sight.

"Let me get this straight. You let Castiel get his ass kicked for months and then expect us to help you?" Sam's laugh was hard. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"I do." Dean pursed his lips a moment, then shrugged his brows. "Screw you, Naomi."

"Castiel's trial was necessary for the spell and I do regret that. It will make him a stronger leader to have come through all of it. Think about that. If you refuse, he's like this forever. If you agree, he's restored to where he belongs. He can come home. I'll give you a few days to ponder that. I'm not your enemy or his. I'm trying to protect my family. Consider the lengths you've gone to protect yours."

She was gone with the fluttering of wings.

The rest of the day, Dean considered everything she'd said and when Castiel was back in his room, he went to see him. "You know someone named Naomi?"

Castiel paled. "She was here? The angels have found me?"

"Not Raphael's goons. Just her. She came by with an offer."

"What kind of offer?"

"The unreasonable kind. Tell me about her."

"Must I?"

"Cas. Come on."

He sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. "She developed the reprogramming techniques currently in use and she has more agents than Zachariah ever did. She was most likely the one who worked on Anna."

"Where does she stand?"

"Not anywhere I wish to be. She's dangerous, Dean. Dangerous and ruthless. Even Raphael is wary of her. She was put into place to protect heaven and answered only to Michael. Without Michael, she is…how would you put it…without a leash? Anyone taking over heaven, like Raphael, can't control her because Michael had the highest power. Michael knew how to keep her in line." He sighed again. "She never took a side when Raphael and I were fighting, never stepped in."

"Oh, she stepped in alright. She was the one who told Raphael not to kill you, but to make you human because there's some spell she has that needs an angel turned human. She wants to raise Gabriel and have the two of you storm heaven."

"Mmm." Castiel nodded. "Gabriel _was_ better liked than Raphael, but I'm hardly in a position to storm heaven."

"She says he'll restore you."

"She has no way of knowing he would. Gabriel goes his own way."

"I don't know. Sort of sounded like she and old Gabe had been involved. She even called him 'Gabe'."

Castiel leaned closer. "There were rumors." He stared up at Dean. "Raphael hasn't found me?"

"No. Just Naomi."

"How did she find me?"

"Sounded like she maybe tracked us through Sam. She said she arranged his meeting with Christian, Mark, and Gwen."

He tapped one foot on the floor. "If I was an angel I could check and see if she put trackers in you."

"Trackers?"

"Another of her inventions. She was working on it when Zachariah was looking for you."

"There's one in all of you except for you, Castiel, and Jo Harvelle," came a voice by the door. A young woman stood there. She had pale skin, red hair, and eyes bluer than Castiel's. It was the woman Dean had been seeing all over the country, the one watching him. She strode forward and held out her hand for him to shake. "Hello, Dean Winchester. I'm Moira."

Castiel groaned and covered his face with his hands. "This keeps getting better and better."

"Moira?"

"Yes."

"Who the hell -"

"Fate, Dean." Castiel's hands dropped away and Dean saw resignation in his eyes. "She _is_ fate."

"I thought Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos are fate."

Moira's lips curved in a smile. "They're my agents. I am to them what Death is to the reapers."

"Great. What are you doing here?"

She looked around the room with a curious gaze. "I wish to form an alliance."

"Sorry, a what?"

"An alliance. I wish to join the list of your allies."

"What do you need us for? You're fate."

"Very direct and to the point. I like that about you, Dean. Here it is. The future of archangels isn't in my hands. It should be, yet it isn't. Some silly reason about keeping the spheres separate. Well, the spheres have been mashed together courtesy of one power hungry archangel. I'll give you four guesses and the first three don't count."

Castiel piled the pillows in one place against the headboard and leaned back against them. "Raphael has started ordering you around. Who did she tell you to arrange an accident for? Me?"

"It's not her place to tell me my job. She has her sphere and I have mine. Angels don't interfere in my sphere. I am Fate. _I_ deal with each thread as it's ready to be woven out of the tapestry, not Raphael. Therefore, I want to help you destroy that smug asshole Raphael."

"Man, we're popular dates for the dance these days." Dean crossed his arms. Things were coming out of the woodwork now to go up against Raphael. First angels, now fate. Who next? Just what exactly was she doing up there?

"Sorry?" Moira frowned.

"What kind of deal are you wanting?"

"Explain that remark."

"Naomi," Castiel told her. "She was here awhile ago."

"Oh. Her. Did…did she have a plan then?"

"Not much of one." Dean wondered what it would take to kill her. Could fate be killed?

"Did she promise to restore Castiel?"

"In a roundabout way. Why?"

"Castiel's place is in heaven is all. He belongs there." She turned her gaze to Castiel. "You do belong there, you know."

Dean blinked. For a weird second, he thought time hiccupped or something because Moira was closer to Castiel than she'd been, now standing right beside him. "Why are you all so concerned with getting him up there? Why not leave him alone? First Naomi and now you. You both want him up there pretty badly. Why?"

"Because he's important. He's one of the few pieces on the board that matters."

"Why?"

"Because he's…." She trailed off, a smug grin turning her lips. "No. I think you need to learn that for yourselves." A pale hand touched Castiel's cheek in a slow caress. "Having more urges these days? Discovering _things_ about yourself?"

"I'm fine." He jerked back from her hand.

Her gaze slid down him and back up, an imitation of how Gwen had been watching him recently. "You certainly are." She turned back to Dean. "They grow up so fast these days. When he's done growing…." She made a 'tsk-ing' noise. "I do believe heaven may be set on fire." She was gone in a blink.

Dean turned his attention to Castiel. He was sweating and looked slightly green. "Cas?"

Castiel got up from the bed. "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back later." He hurried to the door, flung it open, and collided with Gwen. The drink in her hand went flying, splashing blue slushie all over Jo.

"Hey!" Gwen steadied herself with the doorframe.

"And now I need a shower and a Laundromat before the stains set." Jo plucked at her shirt with one hand. Blue liquid dripped down it. "What's going on, Dean?"

"I'll explain later. Gwen, go after him for me?"

She didn't protest or ask for a reason, she simply went.

"Dean?" Jo looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

"Take a fast shower and change shirts. I'll catch you up while you work on that stain."

What had upset Castiel so badly? Surely it wasn't the news that Naomi had plans for him? Or that Moira wanted to be an ally…maybe. She was just as hinkey as Naomi. But there'd been that moment where Moira had moved in less than a blink. Something must have happened then.

Moira showing up was nearly as bad an omen as Naomi stopping by. Her insistence that he belonged in heaven rubbed Castiel the wrong way.

"Stop it," Castiel spat. "I don't belong in heaven anymore. I belong here. I'm human now. I belong on earth."

"You're not human, Castiel. You think you are. You're pretending you are, but you're not. You never will be. This…existence…is temporary and I think a part of you knows it."

"I'm human," he maintained, though she was right. He'd merely thought he was those first few weeks. His ability to heal himself faster than he should was a red flag, as was that instinct Jo said was too good to be true. Both were angelic traits. He glanced at Dean, hoping Dean would take over the conversation with her. Dean was standing still, not moving, frozen in place. "Start time back up again."

"I'm not the one stopped time, Castiel. You did that. This," she raised a languid hand, "was all you."

"No."

"Yes. Those abilities you had are slowly returning."

"You're lying."

"You want me to be lying and you know I'm not. You know fate doesn't always mean a death. Fate can be a path you're set upon or a task that is only yours. Why am I here today, Castiel?"

He looked away. She wasn't here to make a deal, not really, though she was upset with Raphael. She was here to make it clear to him that there was more still for him to do. He wasn't going to be allowed to rest and be human. He wasn't out of angelic politics by a long-shot.

"Poor baby. You've had such a difficult time recently, but where it's all going will be a wondrous thing for you. You'll see. As those abilities begin resurfacing, you'll embrace what you're becoming."

It took a conscious effort to give time the push it needed to return to flowing normally and he didn't miss Dean's flicker of suspicion when it did flow. At that moment, Castiel hated Naomi and Moira and everything they stood for for him. He hated that he wasn't allowed to be human and be with his friends and he certainly hated that those returning powers would mean he once more had to step back from his friends. Cas didn't want that future fate had for him. He'd come to enjoy being human.

He ran from the room and in doing so, felt like he was running from all of it. Maybe if he kept running he could keep ahead of it and none of it would happen. It was futile and a human thing to do and he embraced that human act as proof that he wasn't what Moira told him.

He was human and that was that.


	23. Chapter 23

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twenty-three  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

It was Gwen who came after him, not Jo. Right then, he was glad it was Gwen because Jo would push until she knew what had happened and had it all dragged out. He wanted to keep it in and Gwen let him do that. She held him and soothed without making him face the pain of losing his new identity into both his past and that future planned for him. She was the healing balm he needed right then and he did need her. He needed closeness and love and touch and….

Castiel wanted to lose himself in her.

He was glad his room was empty when they returned and that it was only her to see him like this.

"I want you," he told her, gasping the words into her neck and holding her tighter to him. "I want to be with you." He knew it'd be another way to avoid his future and didn't care. Right then, he wanted to do this and be reckless with her. He wanted the touch of her hands and mouth and the feel of her naked body against his.

"Are you sure?" She drew back to look in his eyes.

"I don't want to wait any longer." Any longer and it might be too late. He might lose the human connection that would enable him to feel everything. Desperation crawled over him. When that came he'd lose so much that he'd become used to and the idea was almost too much to bear. Snaking his hands up, he cradled her face in them and kissed her with every ounce of that desperation he was feeling. In between kisses he told her, "I want this. I want it now."

She took little convincing, though she did slow him down, lightening the mood as best she could.

As her fingers worked the buttons on his shirt, he confessed his inexperienced state to her. "Daphne and I never…."

"Doesn't matter," she replied, shoving his shirt down and off him.

"I'm not experienced. I've actually never -"

Gwen placed her fingertips against his lips, stilling his words. "Cas. Honey. It doesn't matter. I think we're gonna have a fun time. Now, do you want to undress me or shall I undress for you?"

"Um…." He wasn't sure which would be better.

She smiled and led him to the bed. "We'll play it by ear."

He let himself completely fall into the moment.

* * *

Jo took the fastest shower humanly possible and managed to be changed by the time Dean knocked on the door to the room she was sharing with Gwen. Castiel had the experience of having a room to himself. He didn't have to worry if he woke anyone up when he got up after three hours of sleep.

There wasn't anything Jo could do to pick up Gwen's side of the room, but her own was neat and tidy. "So, what's going on," she asked, leading the way back to the bathroom to tackle the blue stains.

Dean leaned against the doorway. His gaze upon her was steady and warm, yet not flirtatious. This was a serious matter. "Angels and fates. One of Michael's angels showed up. She wants us to help her raise Gabriel."

"Uh-huh. The dead archangel?" She doused the shirt in stain remover, then squirted on more for good measure.

"That's the one." He explained about the angel, Naomi, and then the fate, Moira, along with his suspicion that Moira had done something in a blink that upset Castiel. "She said he matters, he's becoming something, and when he's done growing, heaven may be set on fire."

"Hmm. None of that's really news to us, is it? I mean, you and I both know he's not really human, not with the instinct and healing for himself."

"He's a lot like, though. Eats, sleeps -"

"I hardly call three hours a good night of sleep." It had sometimes irked her how Cas would be awake when she went to bed and awake when she woke up, having gotten his needed rest in while she was out cold. For awhile, he'd pretended he slept all night, but once she'd caught him in the lie and explained that it _was_ a lie, he'd stopped doing that.

"Me either, but there are some people who sleep that little."

"As for him mattering in some way, God did raise him again." She ran water into the sink and began to dunk her shirt. "Raphael found him enough of a threat to pursue him, try to break him, then toss him on earth with a surveillance team on his ass. That's not nothing."

"True. Sounds like fear of what Cas can do. _Could_ do anyway. Naomi kept an eye on us to find him. Moira pretended she wanted to join us, but her main objective was Cas. Has to have been. They want him up there something fierce."

"And we don't know why yet because he's still changing."

"Yeah, but what is he changing into?" Dean's sigh was long and he turned, going into the room itself and lying down on Jo's bed, the pillows behind him and ankles crossed. "That's what's got me wondering. If the human behavior is part of it, what could the end product be?"

Jo dried her hands and joined him, sitting with her side to the headboard to face him. "I don't know. Archangel? Maybe he's going right up that rank in one swoop."

"Archangels are still angels, Jo. They still don't quite get human behavior. Cas however…. He's getting a full education of that without those powers."

She shrugged.

"We're missing part of the puzzle," he said. "I don't think Cas got a full promotion all the way up to archangel, but why would Raphael be afraid of him being full powered? Why would she be afraid of him being an angel at all? What does she know about him that we don't? Or what does she guess?"

"Hard to tell. Not like she'd share information. Maybe he's a hybrid of sorts, an angel without the restraints of the angels. Being able to feel, enjoy food, experience sleep."

"Which would make him a new class, because that kind of angel doesn't exist." He frowned, then shook his head as though to clear his mind of that line of thought. When he continued, he'd segued into a different topic. "You seem to be having an easier time hunting these days."

Her smile was slow. "Ditto. There's something to be said for the support structure of good friends to help you get back to work."

For the most part, she'd been partnered with either Sam or Dean on those day trips, though she'd gotten to know Gwen, Mark, and Christian as well. They'd all given her the backup she'd needed to get through those moments of sheer terror that she was going to die again. Dean had been an especially good help, sharing his own tips and tricks to keep moving.

And as those days had passed, Jo had once again become aware of that thrill of having the sole regard of Dean Winchester. She fell for him all over again, this time with a grown woman's perspective instead of that girl she'd been. Even when he was moody there was something about him that drew her and, this time, she knew her interest was returned. Jo could see it in the sometimes thoughtful way he watched her. It was there in the flirtatious moments and the serious ones; in how he said her name and every interaction they had.

He wasn't pursuing her exactly, just…testing the waters and fully respecting, as he put it, 'that self respect'. Jo appreciated him acknowledging that she was a woman as well as a friend and if their flirting went nowhere, she thought she'd still be okay.

There was a thump against the wall behind them.

Jo and Dean both turned to look at the wall. Jo frowned. "Was that…."

"That's Castiel's room."

Another thump sounded, followed by Castiel's rather ragged voice saying, "Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh, ooooh….yes…."

Jo burst into giggles. "Somehow, I don't think he's upset anymore."

"I'd agree with that assessment. What's say we go out?"

"Sure. We inviting Sam?" She climbed off the bed.

"Nah. He's out running."

They had a long dinner and returned to her room to watch tv.

* * *

Dean woke spooned to Jo, one arm at a funny angle, a crick in his neck, and his face pressed to her neck, nose against her hair. They were still dressed and on top of the covers with the television on. Easing back a fraction, he stretched, then returned close to her, breathing in the tempting scent of her fading perfume from the previous day. The scent and her nearness brought a delicious heat into his veins and he closed his eyes a moment, relishing that moment of arousal.

She fit well against him and he raised his hand, drawing his fingers slowly down the line of her spine and around to the curve of her waist. The indent felt perfect under his palm and Dean slid his fingers lightly just under the hem of her shirt right there, touching warm skin. The last thing he remembered was discussing the difference between real vampires, movie vampires, and world legends of them. Falling asleep with her had been natural, a thing that had simply happened. He'd closed his eyes and…boom…he'd been asleep with Jo in his arms.

It occurred to him that he was happy. In this moment, he was happy with the sort of feeling he hadn't had since before he'd gone to hell.

Raising up on his elbow, he looked down at Jo's profile.

Happiness had crept up on him and yet it made sense that he'd be happy. Sam was alive and well and their relationship had never been better. Castiel was with them and, while he wasn't what he'd been, he was still Cas. Dean had family besides Sam and…he had Jo. They were relating better day to day than they ever had, sometimes communicating with each other with a single quirk of a brow or smirk. He was even happy with hunting, the joy in it slowly and surely returning as he felt they had some tiny bit of control in their lives.

Sure, the angels and other higher beings were out there, yet it wasn't directly involving them. Cas, but not them. The world was, in a sense, small again and he was glad for it.

Jo stirred, stretched, and yawned, eyes opening. "Mmmm…. You're still here." She seemed surprised by that.

"That I am."

She moved onto her back. The hand that had been at her waist slid across her stomach under her shirt. Jo didn't move it away, stretching her own hand up to slide her fingers across his cheek in a slow caress. "Good morning."

"I think it is." He almost leaned down and kissed her good morning. Instead, he turned his cheek into her palm.

"Sleep well?" She swept her thumb across his cheekbone.

"Awesome. You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Half an hour to shower and change?"

"Perfect."

Gwen hadn't returned while they were sleeping and, on his way back to Jo's room, he saw Castiel carefully letting himself back into his room with a bag and what Dean presumed was coffee. Before Dean could call out, Castiel closed the door. Neither of them emerged from Castiel's room all morning and Sam and Jo left to do laundry, leaving Dean all alone for lunch.

He was pondering his lunchtime options, phonebook open, when a third visitor appeared: Death.

Death held a large paper sack and two Styrofoam cups in a carrying container. The cups were about as big as the slushies Gwen usually got. He stepped to the table and set everything down. "I've brought you something." Death removed one cup from the container and set it across from him. "Sweet tea."

"Um…thanks?" He closed the phonebook. Whatever Death had brought in that sack smelled awesome.

"We need to chat, Dean."

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

Death opened the sack. "Sit."

Dean sat in the chair across from him, waiting for Death to begin talking. It didn't take long. Death got right to the point.

"This…situation with Raphael and the angels is annoying." A bony hand reached into the sack and brought out a handful of ketchup packets that he distributed evenly between them. "It's got all of heaven in an uproar and is disrupting order more than _your_ antics normally do."

Death did like order. He was rather OCD about it.

"I'm not pleased. This matter must be resolved soon."

He expected Dean to resolve it? Couldn't he do it himself? "How," he asked with as much caution as he could.

"Gabriel must go home, of course."

"That'd be nice, but he's dead. Lucifer killed him."

He reached into the bag. "Try the fries. They're not the best, but they have a certain something."

Dean obediently took the proffered package and ate one, then took a sip of sweet tea. He wasn't sure what to say.

"I found the most delightful little restaurant in Georgia."

Interesting change of topic. Hadn't Cas been babbling about Georgia lately?

"The desserts are fresh daily, made on the premises, and they serve slabs of pie that are worth the price. I brought you a piece of their apple crumb pie, though the blueberry is by far their best."

"Thanks." Why was it everyone and their uncle could remember the pie, but Sam never could?

"This restaurant is in a small town, the address is on the cup. A visit wouldn't be a waste of your time." He set a sandwich in front of Dean. "Pulled pork. I had them add extra slaw sauce for you."

Death chatted about the necessity of order as they ate, though how raising Gabriel would keep order Dean didn't know. He made this big stink about how Dean and Sam messed up his precious order, then he turned around and wanted a resurrection? Didn't make sense. Dean thought he had to be missing something here. He'd been feeling like that a lot lately and he ventured a question. "Weren't you bothered when Castiel died and was raised this last time? Didn't that mess up order?"

After a sip of his tea, Death shook his head. "No."

"May I ask why?"

Death's dark eyes fixed upon Dean and he didn't answer the question. Instead, he took a large bite of sandwich. When he'd swallowed, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Why does everyone assume that Gabriel wasn't raised."

The question threw Dean for a moment. Everyone _was_ assuming that, weren't they? Dean included.

"You, of all people, should know better. After all, Castiel was raised multiple times. They both assisted you humans. Why would Gabriel be neglected? He went against everything to assist you, the only archangel to do so. Would that not be of some…significance to God?"

"Wait…. Are you saying Gabriel is alive?"

Death finished his sandwich. "Try the corn fritters, they're delectably sweet. Like _candy_." The idea that that slight quirk to Death's lips could be a smile unnerved him. "It would behoove you to get this done quickly, before a certain angel in charge finds him first and assassinates him."

"Naomi?"

Death slowly quirked a brow.

"Oh, you mean the _other_ certain angel." Raphael.

"You're not stupid. The reason you prevail is that your enemies constantly underestimate you. It works to your advantage. I suggest you milk it for all it's worth." Death's eyes glittered with cool intensity and he leaned forward. "There is a limited amount of time to take care of this matter. You have until the new moon. If you don't take care of this before then, you may find that your noble display of free will earlier hardly matters at all."

He was gone then, leaving Dean with the remains of the meal and wondering exactly what Death had meant by that. In what way would their 'noble display' not matter?

Dean finished the food, agreeing that the pie was good, his mind going back and forth over what had been said and when Sam came through the door, he didn't waste time saying, "We're heading to Georgia."

"Why?" Sam set the duffel bag on the bed.

He turned the cup over in his hands, reading the address printed there. "Because Death was here."

"Yeah?" He shot a questioning glance Dean's way. "What'd he have to say? Why Georgia?"

"Well…apparently the spell the angels have planned won't work even if they succeed in using it."

"Uh-huh. Why is that?"

"Because you can't raise from the dead what's already been raised."

"And that means…." Sam raised his brows. "Gabriel's alive?"

He nodded. "In Georgia and the sibling bond doesn't go very deep because Raphael is planning to assassinate him if she finds him."

"Leaving herself the only archangel alive for real."

"Exactly." Death's timeline didn't give them too long to take care of Raphael. "You want to roust out Gwen and Cas? I'll tell Jo."

They were on the road two hours later.


	24. Chapter 24

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twenty-four  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Gabriel was alive.

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed in his room pondering that development. That he'd known to come here and felt an urgency for that had to mean something. He supposed it pointed towards that angelic future he wanted to avoid.

He sighed. Bummer.

Jo sat down beside him.

Gwen was currently out buying reading material and Dean and Sam were retrieving Gabriel from the diner Death had told Dean about.

"You want to talk about it?"

"You mean about how my life is changing yet again? About how I'm never going to be just one single thing? How about how I can't be what I now want to be? Or maybe we can talk about how I can't ever get free of stupid angelic politics? Is that what you want to talk about, Jo?" He couldn't help the bitterness of his tone.

"If you want. Or maybe we can discuss what powers have come back that you're trying to hide from me. From us."

He sucked in a long breath and blew it out slowly before turning to look at her. She was wearing that blue blouse with the wide neckline that Dean always tried to look down and had put on makeup. Jo was wearing makeup most days now and he wondered how long until she and Dean gave in to their own urges. "You knew?" He'd been ignoring the increase Moira had mentioned, trying to pretend it wasn't happening.

"I suspected something was up. So did Dean. What can you do now?"

"It's not much really. My intuition is sharpening further. I know things I shouldn't, like how much you and Dean think about each other."

"That one is something of a no-brainer, Cas."

"True." He relaxed a tiny fraction, slumping. It felt good to slump now and then. "I can see other things than ghosts. Reapers. Not demons yet, but it'll probably come soon. So far I can't use my wings. I guess it's fairly certain I still have them. Moira pretty much confirmed it." Pointing a finger at the tv, he concentrated until it came on. "I can turn on the tv without getting up or using a remote. And…. I can stop time and start it back up again."

"That's _not_ not much. That's a lot."

"The last two weeks have been…eventful in my development into whatever the hell I'm becoming." Lying back, he stared at the ceiling. "And now Gabriel is alive and here."

"Isn't that a good thing?" She laid down beside him, head propped on her hand. "Gabriel can go up to heaven and do something about Raphael. Archangel versus archangel."

Castiel snorted. "Gabriel isn't exactly a fan of taking responsibility for anything. Sure, he did die helping Dean and Sam, but otherwise he's not who I'd want in charge."

"Okay, but would he be better than Raphael?"

"Oh, without a doubt." He shook his head. "I just don't see him sticking around for long. He ran away and hid and…." If he went up there with Gabriel, helped get rid of Raphael, and Gabriel ran away again, would he be stuck running everything?

Reaching out, she grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze. "What are you afraid of?"

"I don't want to be stuck up there in a bureaucrat's life doing his job when he inevitably runs away from his responsibilities."

"You don't know that'll happen. You don't even know if you're capable of going up there like this. Besides, what about Naomi?"

"Can we talk about something else?"

She sat up and released his hand. "Like what?"

"Like when are you and Dean going to do something besides talk?" The flirting between the two was heating up. Gwen and Sam had a bet going on how long before Dean and Jo did more than flirt. Castiel hadn't joined in on that bet. Sitting as well, he leaned back on his hands.

Jo smiled. "Don't know. It's part of the journey. Why?"

He eyed her with a slight touch of cynicism he was sure he hadn't had before. "You might want to get to it before one of you dies again."

Her brows rose. "Wow. Aren't you a real Deputy Downer today?"

"Sorry."

"No, you're not, and I guess it's a valid concern. Just not _your_ concern. More like mine and Dean's."

"No, I'm sorry. I am. I've been out of sorts since Moira stopped by. You and Dean are none of my business."

"Sure we are. In a way. We're your, Sam and Gwen's business as long as we're all together. By the way, you won me twenty the other night."

"Only twenty?"

"Wasn't sure of the odds, so I bet safe."

They continued to talk, the light conversation soothing Castiel's nerves.

* * *

The archangel was exactly where Death had pointed Dean, sitting at the counter of a small diner. It amazed Dean that Gabriel was just sitting there eating, like he didn't have a concern in the world.

"Hey, Gabe. Miss us?" Dean leaned against the counter on one side of the archangel and Sam leaned against the other.

His eyes widened. "What the hell are you two doing here," he hissed. "How did you find me?"

"We are just that good at what we do."

Gabriel snorted, grabbed Dean's shirt and tugged him closer. "No, really. I've been good. I haven't played any tricks. Well, maybe just one. But that guy had it coming. He was a _dick_. How did you know I was alive?"

"Who else eats like this?" Dean gestured at the counter. In front of Gabriel were stacked plates that still had remnants of various desserts on them.

"Tricksters?"

"Them and you and since Death told us you were here…." He shrugged.

He frowned. "That bastard."

Sam cleared his throat. "We should have this conversation in private. Trust me, Gabriel, you want to hear what we have to say."

Dean returned to the motel first and found Castiel sitting on one bed with Jo beside him. She appeared to be giving him some sort of pep talk. "They'll be here in a few minutes."

Castiel looked up, hands moving to rest on his knees. "He's actually alive? Death was telling the truth?"

"He is."

"This is the town from that article all of you ignored." He drummed his fingers on his knees.

"I realize that, Cas."

"He did it, didn't he? That freak accident wasn't a freak accident, but one of Gabriel's pranks."

Dean crossed his arms and sighed. "Fine. You told me so. You were right, okay?"

"Thank you. I _knew_ we needed to be here. Maybe next time all of you should listen to me."

Jo slid her attention up to Dean. "Almost like he knew Gabriel was in danger. Like they're connected."

"It's a possibility," Dean conceded. "Something to think about."

They were finding a lot to think about recently and Dean suspected the next few hours would bring up even more.

* * *

For having been dead, Gabriel's presence hadn't diminished at all. He came through the door with a swagger and for a second, Castiel could see his true form nestled in his vessel.

Great, he thought. Now that was coming in again, too. Just when he'd gotten used to humanity, he had to change into something else.

Jo had tried to lighten his mood and had succeeded until Gabriel walked in. Now he was feeling petulant.

"Well, well. The gang's all here." Gabriel slid his hands into his jeans pockets. "Hello, Castiel. Hello," in that brief pause, Castiel knew Gabriel was finding Jo's name in their minds, "Jo Harvelle. Pleasure to meet you."

Castiel had been skeptical about Death's information, though he knew he shouldn't have been, Death had a stake in this somehow. Raphael was probably messing around with Death's sphere along with Moira's sphere. "Gabriel." He nodded in greeting.

Gwen was missing from this meeting, not offended by Dean's request that she not attend. She was taking the time alone to take a bubble bath. Cas wished he was with her instead of here. He'd love to watch the bubbles slide along her naked body.

Gabriel cast a sharp glance his way and stepped forward. "What's been done to you?"

"I'm human now."

He snorted. "No, you're not." Reaching out, he poked a finger in Castiel's cheek.

Jo ran her hand along Castiel's back, gently rubbing the tense muscles.

"Yes, I am."

"Mmmm…no. The genetics are different. I mean, there's a human element," grasping Castiel's chin, he turned his face right and left, "but you're not human. It's just the basic structure melding with…." Sliding a glance at Dean and Sam, he let go and stood back up. "Never mind. What did you want to talk about?"

"No, no." Sam waved a hand. "Go on. The human structure is melding with what?"

"Pure conjecture on my part and probably wrong. You have an agenda with this talk boys?"

Dean stared at Gabriel for several seconds. "You tuning in to angel airwaves at all?"

"No." Gabriel reached out and picked up the big box of chocolates Gwen had left in the room. Opening it, he perused the selection. Gwen had already eaten the caramels and most of the creams. "Was I supposed to be?"

"You weren't curious what was going on after you magically appeared alive?"

"No."

"Why not," Castiel asked. "You died assisting Dean and Sam. Didn't you want to know what happened?"

He shrugged. "I rose up a little while after dying, which was something of a disappointment really, as dying for the cause was nicely heroic."

"Yeah, you're a big damn hero," Dean drawled.

Gabriel spread his arms with a smirk. "Of course I am…." His smirk faded. "Naw, the world didn't end. Obviously, Lucifer didn't win the fight. What else is there? The world went on. You put him back. I had no reason to listen in." He popped a piece of chocolate in his mouth. "Mmm. Toffee."

Sam crossed his arms. "How about Michael fell in the cage with him and Raphael is running heaven?"

He looked at all of them, even Jo, who nodded. "Can't be."

"Why not?"

"Because Michael never trusted Raphael to lead anything. Raphael's not a leader. He's not the following type."

"She. She has a female vessel now, which you'd know if you'd listened at all." Castiel could feel his back and shoulders becoming more tense.

"Oh." He ate another chocolate. A replacement appeared in the box. "Well, in the event of Michael's displacement, which would never happen, Naomi was to assume control and keep things together until they could…." The fast change in his expression to alarm and resignation was almost comical. "Oh, crap."

"Until they could what," Dean coaxed. "Come on, Gabe. Spit it out."

"With Luci gone, Mike chose me to replace him if something went wrong."

"Did Raphael know that?" Castiel pulled away from Jo and stood.

"Of course. Michael laid it out for us. Raphael was fine with it and it wasn't like it'd ever happen -"

"But it did and she's killed angels, Gabriel. She did this to me."

Gabriel quirked a brow. "I highly doubt Raphael did _that_ to you. Archangels don't have the juice for the changes in you. Besides, genius Rafe ain't, lemme tell you."

Dean cleared his throat. "Death said to find you before Raphael. Seems Raphael guessed you're alive and has an assassin after you."

"She wouldn't kill me," Gabriel protested.

"Lucifer killed you," Dean pointed out.

Gabriel waved a hand. "That was Lucifer. He was always a little," he made a noise that sounded like 'cuckoo, cuckoo'. "Raphael wouldn't hurt me. We're bros. We're good."

Dean shook his head. "By whose definition? You're standing in her way of running heaven without anyone looking over her shoulder. Naomi came to us, wanted us to resurrect you. She let Cas go through hell to get him where she needed him for her spell."

"Spell? What spell?" Gabriel's brows raised. "Oh, you mean the archangel resurrection spell?" He snickered. "That thing wouldn't work. It's a piece of crap. I made it up once. See, I was having this contest with a soldier names Azariel to see who could come up with the most nonsensical fake spell and slip it into the official books. I won. He never got past the librarians. They totally didn't believe he was a regular there."

"You made it up?" Somehow, Castiel wasn't surprised to hear that. He rolled his eyes. Of _course_ Gabriel and Azariel had known each other.

"I did. So you're telling me that Naomi believed it was real? Seriously? Mission accomplished. I am awesome." He grinned.

Castiel noticed Dean trying to keep from smiling and, if it hadn't personally affected him, he might find it amusing as well. "It is sort of funny, but it wouldn't have been if she'd tried it and it didn't work. Not to mention she let me be tortured for months before Raphael completely cut off my tie to the power of heaven."

"Man, if I could have seen her running around trying to get you two," he flicked a finger between Sam and Dean, "to get all the ingredients together…." His pleased grin faded. "Maybe it's better this way. She hates being made a fool of even more that Raphael. To tell you the truth, the chick's a little OCD. _Control_ issues. Big time. Makes Kali look like a fluffy baby chick. Mmm. The times we had together before I left…. Naomi. Rowr!"

"You have a thing for the dangerous ones, don't you," Dean mused.

"They're never boring." He clapped his hands together. "That all you wanted to talk about?"

"You need to go up there and stop this." Dean's tone made the words almost an order.

"Why? I'm no politician."

"No, but you're the archangel Michael put in charge in the event of his demise." Sam moved close to him, looking down at him.

"Michael's not dead."

Sam's expression was stony. "No, but he's in the cage, which, as far as we're all concerned, is as good as dead because to open the cage releases Lucifer too. No one wants that."

"Except maybe Raphael," Dean added, "but who knows what her full plans are these days? Destroy heaven, tear earth apart," he cocked a brow, "murder the other archangel on earth at present?"

Gabriel sighed. "I'll think about it."

It was then that Naomi arrived, uninvited, to join the meeting.


	25. Chapter 25

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twenty-five  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

It seemed to Sam that the second Naomi appeared, she focused on Gabriel. Sam made a discreet movement with one hand to check his inner jacket pocket for the angel knife, then took a few steps where he could keep a better eye on Naomi. There was no guarantee he could stop her if she tried anything, but he could at least try.

"Gabriel." Naomi's eyes seemed to light up and Sam would swear she'd started blushing. "Dean, you had me fooled." Her smile was wide and delighted. "I came down to see if you'd had enough time to think about what I'd said and I see you did. Fast work finding -"

Dean shook his head. "This isn't on us. Gabriel has been around since Sam woke up topside. He's been hanging out here."

The pleased twinkle in her eyes disappeared. "Excuse me? That's over a year."

"Yup."

Gabriel didn't say anything.

"But…." She took a few steps towards Gabriel. "You _were_ aware of the contingency plan. I know you were. I was there at that meeting." Sam could see the cold anger replacing that pleasure in her eyes. "You did know that Michael went down into the cage with Lucifer?" When he still didn't say anything, she snorted. "You child. Why am I not surprised that you, even now, shirk your duties? That's you all over, isn't it, Gabe? Running away and always letting someone else fight the fight."

A wounded expression crossed his face. "I faced Lucifer and tried to get him to chill. I died, Naomi."

"An anomaly." She waved a hand. "I was foolish to think you'd abide by that order of Michael's. I suppose his trust in you was misplaced. _My_ trust in you was misplaced. At least he's not where he can see it. To have the closest three all betray him…."

Wow, was she good at that whole guilt trip thing. Even Jo seemed to be impressed and he'd heard about Ellen's guilt trips.

Gabriel held up his hands. "I didn't know Michael was gone, okay? I just heard about it now."

"So you'll take your rightful place as Michael's successor?"

"Sure. I'll step in."

"Good." Naomi was all business then. "Good. We'll have to surprise Raphael, kill her. I know the idea is distasteful, but we can't contain her. I've already looked into that option. As long as she's alive, some of her followers will work to release her or negate whatever other action we take."

He shook his head. "No. I'm not fighting Raphael."

"Not even with two-thirds of the factions of heaven behind you? I've not been idle, Gabriel. Raphael is out of line and there are plenty who know it and see what she's doing. I've even managed to secure Castiel's band of misfits as allies, though Samandriel has proved difficult to sway. For some reason, he doesn't trust me."

"Imagine that," Dean said half under his breath.

Sam covered a snort of laughter as a cough.

"He seems to think I want to do harm to Castiel." She seemed perplexed by that.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Well, you sort of did harm him by not stopping Raphael when she tortured him for months. I can see where Samandriel is coming from on that." She looked up at Castiel, tapped his leg with her hand, and hissed, "hey, who is Samandriel?"

Resting his hands on his hips, he glanced down at her. "A friend. Colleague. A good soldier."

"He's worked tirelessly to continue the resistance against Raphael," Naomi informed Castiel, looking at him. Surprise, then curiosity, flickered through her eyes as she studied him. One hand started to stretch out to him before she seemed to catch herself and drew it back. "He's kept your troops together and has been holding out hope that you'll return to lead them again."

"I thought Raphael killed all of them."

"No. She killed many, but I granted the rest asylum and hid them in my offices."

By the look on Castiel's face, Sam could tell he didn't trust Naomi either. "I thank you for that."

"I don't think you need to thank her, Cas," Dean said. "She had plans for them when she took them in. It wasn't out of the goodness of her heart."

Naomi shrugged. "Of course I had plans for them. Would you not have seen the advantage of adding Raphael's enemies to your own forces against her, Dean? You'd have done the same."

"Sure," he agreed, "but without letting Cas be tortured."

"Are you still going on about that? It's done. I can't change that it happened."

"Then how about you freakin' apologize for leaving him there?"

Her lips parted, anger beginning to simmer in her eyes.

Sam grasped the knife.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed and he reached for the box of chocolates again just as Naomi took a slow, deliberate step towards Dean. "You fight her, Naomi. Take the army and go after her. You don't need me."

Her attention was diverted back to him. "I do need you. I'm not an archangel. I could hardly win that fight."

"So turn the tap back on to Castiel and let him have a go. He was powered up and will be more so soon. It doesn't take the power of one of us to defeat one of us. Look at what Sam and Dean did with Lucifer and Michael. You just have to be smarter than Raphael and that's not exceptionally difficult."

"He tried already. Without you, who was supposed to find him and join him, he failed."

Dean held up a hand. "Wait, what? Join him?" He gestured between Gabriel and Castiel with one finger.

Naomi looked at him like he was an ugly bug. It wasn't quite as bad as some of the looks they'd gotten from angels before, but nearly so. "Isn't it obvious? The two of them brought back? The changes Castiel had then and the changes he's _apparently_ having now? If not for that, then why? To what purpose would he be powered up before if not to join that power with Gabriel's own and defeat Raphael? Then this, whatever is happening to him now, would likely be to assist in keeping heaven in order." She returned her attention to Gabriel. "If you had done your duty instead of hiding, Castiel never would've been tortured in the first place. None of this would have happened."

As she spoke, Sam edged towards Gabriel.

"You're putting his torture on me? All of this on me?" Gabriel pointed at her and looked at Dean. "See how she is? Not like she couldn't have stopped it. Hell no, she blames me. That's it. I'm blowing this popcorn stand. Sayonara, sweetheart."

Sam grabbed Gabriel's arm even as he was saying the last couple words and dragged him close, pressing the tip of an angel blade to his throat. "I don't think so. You're staying here and we're figuring this out now."

"Fast thinking, Sam," Naomi said in an approving tone.

"Shut it," Dean told her. "You know what? I'm sick of you angels. All of you. Acting like babies. You," he pointed at Naomi, "are a manipulative bitch."

"You shouldn't talk to me that way, Dean."

"Bite me."

"Is that an invitation?" She bared her teeth.

He turned to Gabriel. "Man, if Raphael is tearing heaven apart, you have to take care of it. Maybe you'll fight, maybe you won't, but you can't run away from it."

"Heaven needs a leader who somewhat understands humanity." Castiel sighed. "When Raphael is done putting her foot down in heaven, she'll turn her attention to earth. She'll make it for the angels only and the angels she approves of, which is a small circle and growing smaller all the time."

"That's not exactly true, Castiel. About earth." Naomi crossed her arms. "Raphael is taking power from all areas of heaven. That's not how heaven was meant to be run. We don't have long before her leeching manages to destabilize heaven completely. We need to take care of her before that happens or…."

Dean blinked, head cocking a fraction. "Or the domino effect wipes out everything. Heaven, earth, hell…all of creation. Raphael is making her own little apocalypse without all of us, isn't she?"

Naomi nodded. "Unintended, I'm sure. She likes the power and she's getting power at the expense of creation."

Gabriel slumped in Sam's embrace. "Fine. I'll fight Raphael for the good of heaven and earth." He shook his head. "But if I die again, I'll be very pissed at all of you."

Sam felt it was safe to release him and did so, stepping back again as the conversation continued, the focus now on Castiel and his circumstances.

* * *

With Gabriel's acceptance of his duty taken care of, Naomi's attention slide to Castiel. After a moment, Gabriel's did as well. Some sort of agreement appeared to have passed between the two in that silence. Castiel again sat beside Jo, pressed against her. The touch comforted because he thought it'd be better to have support for whatever they were about to discuss.

"Tell me about your 'human' life, Castiel."

Gabriel said it like it was a joke and Castiel crossed his arms. "What is it you want to know?"

"How about we go over the little things? How does your vessel feel about all of this? You and him, one body?"

"He doesn't care."

"Why is that?" It was obvious to Castiel that Gabriel already knew the reason.

"Because he's not here. He's in heaven. I think. Should be. He was a devout man."

"So, you're alone in there, knitting together with the body." Naomi stepped back and leaned against the dresser, giving him the illusion of room to breathe. At his nod, she asked, "Do you eat?"

"Of course I do. The body must be sustained. I also sleep about three hours a night."

Her frown deepened.

"What powers are you developing?" Gabriel rested his hands on his hips, eyes narrowed.

"Why? What does it matter?"

"Oh, it does matter," Naomi assured him. "It could mean…." She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Don't you think it's odd that you no longer require your vessel's soul to be present?"

"Anna had no need of a soul when she was reformed," he reminded her and Gabriel both, though he wasn't sure if Gabriel was aware of everything that had happened with Anna.

Naomi made a noise low in her throat and said, "Anna was different. She grew as a human after ripping out her grace and falling so, in a sense, she was her own vessel. You, however. You had a vessel. You were killed and reformed more than once. Why did you get a pass on needing the soul this time?"

He shrugged, annoyed by Naomi's intense scrutiny. "I don't know. Maybe because I proved that free will in an angel can be a good thing?"

Jo's hand touched his back, moving across it in slow sweeps.

"How sure are you that this body is your vessel's?" Gabriel's question produced a strangely satisfied long look between Jo and Dean.

"Why wouldn't it be? It looks like him, sounds like him…." But there were the missing skills, like driving, that should have been there and hadn't been.

"You don't look so certain, Castiel." Naomi pushed off from the dresser and came towards him. "Would you consent to an examination? Gabriel and I can carry you home."

He was surprised she was even asking as he recalled her usually doing things without asking permission first. "From you? No. Up there? No."

Gabriel held out a hand, stopping her from moving closer. "How about here? In front of everyone? Dean and Sam can hold blades on us."

Naomi didn't look thrilled with that idea.

As long as everyone would be here and Dean and Sam could stop Naomi if she tried anything, he supposed he'd be okay. "Fine." Besides, if Gabriel was concerned, and it looked like he was, maybe he should be examined by them.

* * *

Gabriel's idea for them to hold blades on them as they examined Castiel was a good one. Since Dean knew how well angels guarded those blades, Gabriel especially, he knew neither would try anything with that threat on them. Smart of Gabriel. It relieved Castiel's anxieties somewhat and lowered his, Sam, and Jo's suspicions. Well, maybe Sam and Jo's. Dean still didn't trust any of the angels except Castiel.

Naomi stepped around to stand behind Castiel. "How do you have wings? Raphael swore she made you human and my agent said nothing about wings."

"I didn't know they were still there until Moira showed up. I can't feel them at all. I thought they were gone."

"Mmm." Her lips pressed into a thin line and Dean saw a ripple of fear cross her face. She'd already come to some sort of conclusion and it wasn't one she liked.

Stepping to the chairs, she dragged one to the clear space between the beds. "Remove your shirt and sit facing the back of the chair." At his hesitation, she cocked her head. "Please?"

Dean thought she wasn't used to saying that word, for she seemed to think Cas would automatically do what she asked of him.

Instead, Castiel sank onto the bed and reached for Jo, pulling her close. "Jo, I don't want to. If she decides I'm some sort of abomination, she'll kill me."

Gabriel cast a sharp glance to Naomi. "Naomi." When she crossed her arms and gave him a defiant stare in return, he said her name again.

She paled slightly and, with an annoyed sigh, she removed her blade from her jacket and laid it on the bed beside Jo. "There, Castiel. Your companion can hold it for me. Now will you remove your shirt so we can look at your back?"

Jo picked up the blade, slid a single glance to Dean, and put all of her attention on Cas. "It's okay. I'm here. We're all here. We won't let anything happen to you. The two of them together may have some answers to the physical questions we've had. We need answers. You need answers."

She continued to talk him back into acceptance and Dean was again struck by the bond between the two. It was primarily a mother to child bond, with a bit of sister and friend rolled into it. Her tactics were effective and exactly what Castiel needed to take this step. Dean had to admire Jo for figuring out how to handle Cas as the 'person' he was now.

Finally, Castiel nodded, unzipped his hoodie, removed it, then removed his t-shirt. He straddled the chair. Jo knelt down in front of Castiel so he could hold her hands if he wanted to and laid Naomi's blade on the floor by her knees. He apparently did want to hold her hands, for he grabbed them and Dean saw Jo wince at his grip.

Sam stayed in position, where he could take out Naomi if needed. Dean almost smiled. Funny how he didn't think they'd need to gank Gabriel.

The two circled Castiel in silence for nearly five minutes.

"You can't feel your wings?" The negative answer had Naomi turning to Gabriel, brows raising in question.

Gabriel nodded.

"May we manipulate them? Test movement?"

"I suppose." Castiel shrugged.

Reaching out, Gabriel grasped thin air along Castiel's shoulder blades and pulled, yanking Cas back a few inches. "Did you feel that?"

"I felt the tug, but otherwise nothing."

"Interesting. Naomi?"

"I see." Her hand flashed forward and returned holding a long, soft feather. "Castiel, how old are you?" After he told her, she held up the feather. "Peculiar. Quite peculiar."

Dean moved forward, beside Jo. "Care to share with the rest of us?"

Gabriel took the feather from her and handed it to Dean. "It's too soft for his age. The older we are, the more sculpted the bigger feathers are. Aerodynamics. This…isn't right."

Cas closed his eyes. Pain rippled across his face, though Dean was pretty sure it wasn't physical, merely emotional.

The feather in Dean's hands was extremely soft and definitely without the sculpted feel he'd noticed on bird feathers. He handed it to Sam, who frowned as he studied it.

"Could it be from his transformation," Sam asked.

"Maybe," Gabriel replied. "They're new growth, but with his age, the longer ones shouldn't be like this." He reached out a hand towards Naomi in a quick movement.

She let out a tiny cry of surprise and pain. "Gabriel!"

He held out a feather, much like Castiel's except it had that sculpted rigidity. "This is what it should look like."

Sam took it and held the two side by side. "Definitely a difference."

"We're going to spread one out, take a look underneath." Now Gabriel moved something Dean couldn't see, presumably one wing. "Wingspan also isn't right. There's mobility, but movement is stiff. Function appears to be atrophying."

Naomi nodded. "I concur. They should be moved manually every day to stop that from happening." She leaned close to Castiel's back in a sudden lunge, her nose almost against his skin. Horror slid into her eyes. "Gabriel." His name came out strangled.

He too leaned close, closed his eyes for a second, and stepped back. "How much pain were you in, say, the couple months before you were put on earth?"

"Constant. I was tortured for months."

Jo looked up at them. "When I woke up, I tended to what looked like whip wounds on his chest and stomach. There were also marks on his back."

"A couple bad ones?" Naomi laid a hand flat on his back. "Right about his shoulder blades?"

"They'd healed up mostly by the time he woke, but yeah. There were a couple there. They were the last to heal."

Dean had a pretty good idea where this was leading and, in his opinion, Raphael needed to die, like, yesterday.

Castiel raised his head. He blinked fast a few times. "Raphael cut off my wings, didn't she?"

Naomi hesitated, bit her lip, and nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry. I…. I had no idea what she'd done or what she planned to do. I thought she was merely going to turn off the power stream to you…." Her other hand also touched his back and she looked like she might actually cry. "I can't even heal the remaining damage. What did Raphael do?"

Gabriel also laid a hand on Castiel, but removed it almost immediately. "It's not something we can heal."

Naomi's hands dropped away from Castiel.

With what looked like gentle movements, Gabriel folded the invisible wing back in place.

Slowly, Naomi drew herself up tall. "If I'd known the price, I would have found another way. This butchery of one of our own is unacceptable. I am sorry, Castiel."

"But torture is okay," Dean asked. "Can't say I'm comforted knowing where your line in the sand is, Naomi." Strange to see an angel look ashamed of herself. Dean drank in the sight. "Now you apologize? When you thought he was only tortured on the surface, you were all for letting it go, but now that you know Raphael was into mutilation you say you're sorry. You really are some piece of work."

Sam handed Castiel's shirt to him. "Cas, did you have any idea your wings had been cut off?"

"Obviously not, Sam. I did think I was really human. Then I hoped I was when I started to realize I wasn't." He pulled the shirt over his head. "I was in and out of consciousness for awhile. Could have been days or weeks. I'd wake up to more pain and pain on top of that. She broke me."

"No, she didn't." Naomi shook her head. Dean thought he saw the tiniest bit of respect in her eyes. "If she'd broken you, you'd be complacent and you're not. You took what Raphael left you with and made a life from it. I don't know that many of us could do that. You're much stronger than Raphael probably ever understood or will understand."

"Let's get the troops organized. Jo, would you give Naomi her blade back?" Gabriel reached over to the chocolates box and snagged a final one before putting the lid back in place, and setting it aside.

She pursed her lips and returned it before sitting back down on the floor with her back against the nightstand and legs stretched out.

It seemed to Dean that Gabriel was standing up taller than he'd been when he'd stepped into the room.

"I need to stay hidden as long as possible and we need to send someone in to turn the tap back on to Castiel." There was an air of authority now to Gabriel's voice.

"Raphael has that area guarded." Naomi's tone was deferential.

"Then we'll just have to break in."

"What if I don't want it back on?" Castiel stood in a smooth movement. "What if I like how things are now and don't want it to change?" He reached for his hoodie and slid it on.

Gabriel's tone was sad. "I think change right now is inevitable for all of us. You need your wings back and I think a burst of power from heaven will take care of the atrophy and immature state of them."

"You don't know that."

"I can guess and, Castiel, you can't be human because you aren't. I think you'll be very much like one when you're done growing and, if you still want to be left alone after Raphael is taken care of, I'll support that. I can relate to that desire. I won't begrudge you that chance to be on your own away from us. After all, I did learn to appreciate humanity during my time here. I'll come back when we have plans finalized and we can discuss strategy." He looked at Naomi. "Ready as I'll ever be."

The two were gone before anyone could say anything and, by the set of Castiel's jaw, Dean knew he was going to have a fight to convince him to even listen to Gabriel later.


	26. Chapter 26

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twenty-six  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

* * *

Castiel wasn't about to follow orders this time.

At least, that was the vibe Sam was getting from him.

Jo remained sitting on the floor, looking perfectly happy to be there. He sat beside her and leaned up against the nightstand while Dean and Cas began to go round and round over whether or not Cas needed to join the fight again. They both made some very good points.

"You should at least hear what they plan on doing, whether you're participating or not."

Sam agreed with Dean on that one. It was best to know what they planned in order to get out of their way or find some way to stop them, depending on what that plan was.

"I'm not participating, Dean. I have a life here, not there. I have life skills they don't have. Even Gabriel. I can drive a car."

"And you think they might not need your insight?"

"Dean."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating you going all gung-ho and being right on the front lines, but those skills you have that they don't may come in handy."

"Not likely," he scoffed. "There aren't any cars in heaven. Nor will sleeping and eating help anyone."

"I'm not talking about cars or the other stuff and you know it."

Sam gently nudged Jo with an elbow. "Not joining in the argument?"

She shook her head. "Nope. He'll talk himself into helping Gabriel when he's done being upset."

Casting a glance at Cas, he asked, "You sure about that?" Castiel didn't seem to amenable to aiding Gabriel with anything.

"I am."

"Why? He seems determined not to help."

Jo turned her head to look at him. "Because he's studied Dean and he understands the importance of doing one's duty, especially to family. Even if he doesn't particularly like his blood family." She used air quotes with her fingers on the word 'blood'. "Then there's us to think of. His adopted family. His duty is to help Gabriel make heaven a good place again for everyone and to keep the earth going for us. That means killing Raphael. He understood his duty before and tried to do it, but without Gabriel, it bit him on the ass. He knows what he has to do, Sam. He'll save everything, or die trying, because it's what Dean would do for his family." She shrugged. "Hell, for the world. It's the job."

"Is it what you'd do, Jo? What you did?"

"My dying wasn't for duty. It wasn't for the cause or the job. It was to help two men who meant a lot to me. Still do mean a lot."

"You mean a lot to us."

"Thanks."

Sometimes he'd wondered what life would have been like if Jo and Ellen hadn't died. He'd gotten some pretty good 'what if' scenarios going in his head, but the two _had_ died and it was a fluke that Jo was alive again at all. He was glad she was. She'd given Dean a lot to think about whether she knew it or not. Sam had seen Dean watching her. He didn't think it was a secret that it was only a matter of time now before the two gave in to their attraction for each other.

Sam lowered his voice. "You mean a lot to Dean."

"He means a lot to me."

"I'm glad he has you."

"Well…." She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "He doesn't have me yet."

"But he will." There was no other place their interactions could go from here.

Jo rested her chin on her knees. "You sound so sure."

"Shouldn't I be? Is there someone else you've got in mind? Or you think he's got in mind?"

She chuckled. "No. There's no one else."

"What are you two waiting for? You waited before, you pretended you had plenty of time, and look what happened?"

"He tried to do the old 'last night on earth' pickup line on me and I died the next day." Jo flicked her gaze to him. "Are you telling me to 'go get him'? I think he's a little preoccupied arguing with Cas right now."

"Yes." He nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Go get him. Chase him down. Tackle him."

"Why Sam, Dean and I haven't even kissed yet this time and here you're suggesting we do the boink-boink?"

"Do the boink-boink," he repeated. It sounded rather like something Dean would say. "Did you just say that with a straight face?"

Her slight smile widened to a grin. "Would you prefer another term for it? I've got tons. I did grow up in the Roadhouse around lots of hunters with foul mouths and creative ways of saying things when my mother protested those foul mouths because I was there."

"I guess it works. Do the boink-boink already."

"Do you win the pool if we get to it this week?"

"That's beside the point." He shook his head. "Nah, I'm kidding on that. I'd lose. I bet it'd be another month."

"Sam!"

He shrugged. "You two haven't even kissed yet this time." Raising a knee, he rested an arm on it. "All kidding aside, there's taking it slow and there's stupidity. Don't be stupid. Pull him in your room and jump him. Gwen can sleep in Castiel's room. She's there at night anyway."

"Pimp."

He couldn't help but laugh a little at that. He sort of sounded like Dean had years earlier. "I'm serious, Jo. If you want Dean, he's right there."

"Oh, I do want him, but I'll do this my way. Trust me, Sam. I know what I'm doing. It won't be long now."

The argument between Dean and Castiel was growing more heated by the second. Their angry words had covered up the conversation Sam and Jo had had. Right when Sam realized the two were going in circles with it, Castiel began making strange expressions. He'd half frown and shift his eyes left and right, sometimes up at the ceiling.

Dean stopped in the middle of a sentence and asked, "_What_ are you doing?"

"I'm doing nothing."

"Nothing? Dude, you look constipated."

Cas scowled and crossed his arms. "I'm tired of arguing."

"Uh-huh. You're admitting I'm right and you need to talk to Gabriel when he comes back?"

"No. You're not right. Gabriel doesn't need me. He's a big archangel. He can fend for himself and has."

"I'm right and you totally know it."

A pained expression once more crossed Castiel's face.

Dean let out a bark of laughter. "You're trying to zap out of here, aren't you? That power hasn't come back in yet, has it?"

"No."

It was unclear which question he was answering, though Sam suspected it was the latter.

"You're trying and you can't. Good. Now, you have to stand there like a normal person and listen to -"

As Dean talked, Castiel stepped to the door, opened it, twitched a brow, and left, slamming the panel behind him.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean followed him.

Jo laughed. "I think I forgot to mention that he does still leave when he's losing an argument only he walks instead of zaps."

"Old habits are hard to break. All the angels zap out, but he was particularly bad about it. Drove us both nuts." He sighed. "How about we find something big, bad, and messy to hunt and kill? They're both going to be spoiling for a knockdown drag out later."

"Definitely," she agreed, getting up off the floor. "Actually, Christian sent me an article we might want to check out."

When Dean returned later, Sam realized that Jo did indeed know what she was doing in regards to Dean…and she'd begun chasing Dean in earnest. He smiled to himself and mentally wished her luck.

* * *

Dean caught up with Castiel by the ice and snack machines.

"I'm done arguing," Castiel told him, digging quarters out of his pocket and feeding them into the soda machine. He selected a root beer and kicked the machine when it didn't immediately fall into the slot. After a second, there was a thunk and he reached down for it.

"Do you think I've wanted to go through some of the crap I've had to go through in my life?" He peered at Castiel. "Answer me."

Cas slid the can into his hoodie pocket and avoided looking at Dean.

"I followed orders from dad that made no sense to me. The man told me I might have to kill my brother, that same brother I grew up protecting. How did that make sense? I've had more bad fights with Sam than I can count. Watched him die. Watched the cage swallow him up. I've gone to hell. You should remember that part. I've done jobs where friends died bloody, painful deaths just helping out. I've lived this life when I've wanted to have some damn rest. I've lived through more shit storms than any man has a right to and I ain't even forty yet. Who knows if I'll make it to forty? So you tell me, Cas…. What part of some of my life do you think I wanted to go through?"

"It's not the same, Dean."

"Don't give me that crap. It's exactly the same. I get wanting out of the politics and everything they've stood for. I get wanting to dropkick your calling into the next state. Sam and I…. We get it. Jo gets it. Gwen, Christian, Mark…man, we all get it. We've all been there in one way or another."

"Being one of them isn't a calling. It's an existence. It's not like all of you and hunting."

"Bullshit. Can you look at me and really think hunting isn't an existence? That it isn't in the littlest part of me?"

"You're making a comparison that doesn't work. An angel is a completely different creature."

"The comparison works. You know why? Because no matter what Gabriel promises or what's been done to you, you'll never be out of it. You're an angel. You can call yourself human and ignore those powers that we both know are coming back, but beneath everything, you're an angel. When you woke up in that motel room, powerless and feeling human in every way, you were still an angel. It's what you are, wings cut off, grown back, full powered, super powered or without powers. You're one of them and this fight Gabriel will have is as much yours as it is his. Probably more yours at this point."

"I don't want this." His voice was low and filled with anguish.

Dean shrugged. "I didn't particularly want all the hopes of heaven on my shoulders, but it happened regardless of what I wanted."

"It sucks."

"Understatement. Don't you want Raphael to pay for what she did?"

Castiel turned his head. With his shoulders hunched and the baggy sweatshirt on, he looked strangely like a scared child standing there. "Of course I do. I want her dead, but I fought her already. I failed. I couldn't do it and it got me tortured and my wings cut off."

"How many times have Sam and I failed? Collectively, we don't have enough fingers and toes to count that. We pick ourselves up and we get back out there. We suck it up and we go through everything we do because, in the end, it's worth it to fight that fight." With a jolt, Dean realized that he truly believed that again. He believed in the good of the job. When had that happened? When had he come to full acceptance of it again? "It's the right thing to do. So you tell me, and you really think about this, is joining Gabriel to kill Raphael and stop the destabilization of all creation the right thing to do? If the answer is yes, then you need to be there and give everything you have even to the point of death to take that bitch down."

Castiel stared at him a long moment. The answer was there in his eyes and Dean understood every bit of heartache and pain wrapped up in it. Yes, it was the right thing. Castiel, however, wasn't ready to acknowledge it. He turned on his heel, went into his room, and slammed the door.

This time, Dean let him go.

He returned to the room and began to look at the papers and articles Jo and Sam had out. In slow degrees, his bad mood faded. They went over each one, weighing the pros and cons of each.

"I think this one is good. It's in Ohio." Jo got up and handed him the sheet of paper, then went behind him so she could lean over his shoulder and point out parts of it. Her cheek was beside his, her breasts pressed to his back, and one arm slightly around him, hand gesturing at the page. "It looks like an interesting one. A prostitute was found dead, body drained of blood and not a mark on her. Then last night, a stripper was found dead. Same thing. No blood, no marks. Intriguing, right?"

His pulse elevated when the scent of her perfume reached him and Dean turned his head to take a discreet sniff. "Where'd you find this one?" Her perfume was delicate and he wondered just where she put that perfume. Wrists and neck, definitely, but did she spritz it on her belly? Her legs?

"Christian sent it," Sam answered, flipping the pages of a tabloid. "He was passing through -"

"He and Mark didn't stop?"

"They split up," Jo told him, drawing back to return to her chair, though she did pull it closer. Beneath the table, her knee rested against his. "Something about Mark following a couple of guys while Christian went on with the project. He didn't have time to stop and check it out, so he sent it to us."

"Good call."

"We checking it out?" Sam closed the tabloid and laid it aside. There was a small smile on his lips.

"Sure. I'm guessing Gabriel won't have any trouble finding us since Naomi didn't. Once Cas cools down we can head out."

Leaving that day wasn't in the cards, however. Less than an hour later, there was a tap on the door. It was Gwen. She slid her hands in her front jeans pockets and asked, "Hey, Jo could you come down to Castiel's room?"

Jo looked up from the laptop screen. "Sure. Why?"

Gwen sighed. "He's got a migraine and…." She shrugged.

"He's in a bad mood."

"Very bad. I got him to take the pills, but he won't lie down. Keeps asking me to get you. He says lights hurt, his stomach is upset, and he was whimpering when I left."

Jo got up. "I'll take care of him."

The migraine apparently lasted into the wee hours of the morning, for Jo didn't return that night. Dean, Sam, and Gwen made the necessary plans and they all left for Ohio after breakfast.

* * *

It was that week that Jo Harvelle began to woo Dean Winchester completely.

Traditionally, it was supposed to be the other way around and, when she'd been twenty, she'd preferred to be chased. Now, however, she understood that she'd have to do some of that chasing if she was going to have Dean. It was a give and take situation that would hopefully end in a mutually satisfying relationship.

Enough time had passed that her sense of self respect was okay with wherever they'd end up. There was no way they'd be a one-time thing. Not now. Their interactions now felt very different than the ones they'd had before she'd died.

She looked at her reflection.

She'd had a nice long morning shower. Her hair was curled, makeup on, and clothes had been picked to drive Dean to distraction.

"You need to wear something lower cut," came Castiel's voice from where he lounged on Gwen's bed. He'd shown up at the door when she hadn't gone to breakfast, a takeout container in hand. He'd brought her French toast and bacon from the diner down the street, then watched tv while she'd gotten ready for the day.

"If I look down I can see my bra. I think that's pretty low cut."

"Isn't the goal for him to see your breasts, not merely the bra?"

"Maybe I should have bought one of those Victoria's secret push-up things. What time does the mall open on Sunday? I could run out and get one."

"Why are you even wearing a bra," he asked.

"I don't want to seem too slutty by going without."

He snorted. "I wouldn't worry too much about that. Dean'll like you with or without one, but probably better without."

Jo adjusted the top a little lower. "Are you still mad at him?" Reaching for her favorite perfume, she spritzeded it on her wrists.

"For what?"

Jo looked at him in the mirror. "Cas."

He set aside the trashy tabloid he'd been leafing through. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You haven't talked about it for two days. You've avoided working with him. You went out with Sam instead of Dean, deliberately ignoring Dean's suggestion that you go with us."

"It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order, and I wanted to learn from Sam's techniques. Sam can teach me a lot."

"Bull."

"Are you saying Sam has nothing to teach?"

He could certainly be frustrating when he wanted to. "Don't be dense. You were avoiding Dean."

"I still don't want to talk about it."

"Gabriel will be back soon. The new moon is like a week away."

"Don't push me, Jo. And it's nearly two weeks away." His emotional distress in the situation showed in how he frowned, glanced away, then sighed forcefully and sat up. "Are you not the slightest bit concerned that I could be killed if I join Gabriel? Because none of you seem to care about that. All of you are telling me I have to go fight beside Gabriel."

Turning, she started towards him. "Oh, sweetheart." Jo sat beside him on the bed. "We do care. We're concerned and we do love you. It's just… We can tell you what we think is the right thing to do, but, in the end, it's your decision." She touched his cheek. "Do the right thing, whatever it is."

"That's what Dean said."

"He's sort of wise that way."

"I don't want to, you know." He grasped her hand and lowered it to his chest, holding it there in his. "I want to say to hell with it all and go have a good time with Gwen instead."

"I know. Think about this. If you do that, and Gabriel loses, then you won't be able to have any more good times. None of us will. Heaven will disappear, then maybe hell next, and finally earth. Everything."

"Mark says it's my destiny."

"You talked to Mark?" This was news to her. "When?"

"Before breakfast. He called for Gwen and I may have told him everything. He was very easy to talk to."

"Oh. Well -"

"He says it's like I'm on a train and that train is going to the fight. I can run all I want back and forth on that train, but I'm still going to the fight." His fingers tightened around hers. "He seems rather obsessed with trains."

"I think his point is that you know you have to be there. You can kick and scream all you like, but in the end, you'll be there."

"Mmm. He said he'd call Gwen back." Cas released her hand and glanced down at her chest. "I think you've achieved the right amount of cleavage. You can go seduce Dean now, Jo."

"You sure you're okay? Because I can stay -"

"I'm fine. Gwen and Sam will be back soon and we'll continue searching for which creature is killing people. This hunt is taking longer than I'd thought it would."

"Happens sometimes. It might have even moved on to somewhere else." Getting up, she reached for her jacket and drew it on. "Guess I'll see you in a couple hours."

She and Dean were going to walk the area, checking out the time it had taken the last victim to go from her workplace to her home. Sam maintained it wouldn't take twenty minutes, while Dean thought it would, especially with the victim having worn her work shoes home. Dean had wanted Jo to buy and wear a pair of those ridiculously high heeled shoes as part of their walking test.

He was waiting by the Impala, straightening when she walked up. "What, no seven inch heels?"

"Not this time."

She saw his gaze dip down to her neckline, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Let's get walking."

"Let's."

* * *

As soon as Jo left, Castiel looked at Moira with a sour frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I came to see how you're progressing."

"I've progressed. There, you can leave." He couldn't help the combative tone. Something about Moira's presence irritated him.

She pushed off from the wall, long red hair swinging across her back as she sauntered across the room, studying it. "Don't be like that, Castiel. Don't be a sullen child. I'm not your enemy."

"I've been hearing that lately. From you. From Naomi. Why shouldn't I be like this? You dashed my hopes."

"I hardly dashed them. Don't be so dramatic. They were shredding long before I showed up." She sat on Jo's bed. "Your acquaintance was right, you know. About the train. Although, his example is more an argument for predestination than simple destiny."

"I realize that."

"Of course you do. You were an angel. You understand various theological arguments. Can you accept it? That you were predestined for this coming fight?"

"No. I refuse. I have a free will, therefore -"

"You can run up and down the train kicking and screaming as many times as you like, yet will still be at that fight when it occurs. You can't escape it, Castiel. It will happen and you will be there."

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat up, gripping the edge of the mattress with his hands. "I may be there, but my free will determines what I do once I'm there."

She licked her lips and leaned forward towards him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

If he was supposed to be at that fight, that meant his wings would be functional sometime soon. How did he prepare for that? How did he prepare to lose everything he'd gained these months? "I'm going to lose everything I have here. My emotions, my friendships. Everything."

Moira stretched out a hand, fingertips gently touching his face. "Don't fear, my little caterpillar. You'll be a beautiful butterfly very soon."

"I hate you all," he told her.

"I know and it'll pass. In time."

She faded away as the door opened and Gwen called for him to come join her and Sam in Sam and Dean's motel room.


	27. Chapter 27

Title: Under the Influence of Djinn  
Chapter: Twenty-seven  
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.  
Rating: T  
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.  
Notes: Thank you for the comments!

* * *

Gabriel was alive and Samandriel was having a difficult time wrapping his mind around that. Gabriel had been dead, killed by Lucifer, yet here he was, holing up in Naomi's office to make plans for an attack.

To his surprise, Samandriel was called in after only a few minutes. He found papers and maps spread out on Naomi's desk and on a long table to one side.

Gabriel was studying one map, finger tracing a path across it. He looked up and, as the door closed, said, "I need you to lead a team into Raphael's territory."

"Me?" Samandriel looked from Gabriel to Naomi and back again. "Why me?"

"You're Castiel's friend."

As if that was the only criteria that mattered. Why? There were other angels better qualified for going into Raphael's territory. Why did Gabriel want him? "Yes."

"You care about him."

"Of course."

"If you succeed in this mission, he'll be in a position to return."

He could hardly believe it, yet didn't think Gabriel would lie to him about that. Not when he and Naomi looked to be planning an attack. A tiny bit of excitement sparked inside him. If he could be a part of getting Castiel home, then he'd do it. "What do I need to do?"

The plan was dangerous, calling for Samandriel and a team he'd picked to go deep into Raphael's territory to turn the power back on to Castiel. In theory, it should be much like flipping a switch. It reality, he suspected it wasn't going to be that easy. They'd be under an order of silence, unable to let Gabriel know they'd succeeded until they got back out, if any of them did. This could well be a suicide mission. "I'll gather a team." He began to see why caring about Castiel was so important. An angel who didn't particularly care and went because of orders might turn back when it got tough, yet one who cared would be more likely to press on to achieve the objective. Samandriel would get this done or die trying.

"Good. Leave as soon as you have them together."

He started towards the door.

"Samandriel?" It was Naomi who called to him.

"Yes?"

"Don't underestimate Raphael's lieutenants and don't engage them if you don't have to."

Odd, she looked worried for their prospects of surviving. Naomi, worried. Did she actually care under that controlling exterior? He nodded and set about recruiting his team. Rachel was the first and he took her suggestions. Hester, Inias, and two others rounded out their team. Not an hour after Gabriel's order, they set out across heaven towards Raphael's stronghold.

* * *

Dean had been flirting with Jo for the past two hours, making not so veiled hints about having some quality time between the sheets. It was almost like a dance now between them, a slow and rousing dance. He advanced, she retreated. She advanced, he retreated. They both advanced and almost got personal before retreating, ratcheting up the tension until he thought they might end up attacking each other when they finally did something about it.

The images that idea brought into his mind were as enticing as that hint of cleavage he kept seeing and he couldn't wait to get Jo in bed. He had a feeling they were going to have a lively good time.

He led her back towards the motel, strides slowing until he finally stopped walking. "You know, there's only one thing we can do from here." Her hair had that sexy mussed look he liked and the way she'd done her makeup gave her eyes a sleepy turn. She looked like she'd just woken up.

Jo put her hands on her hips and looked up at him. The movement made the neckline of her shirt slide down a little. Was that a pink bra she was wearing? "What's that?"

He let his gaze drift slowly down her and back up, grinning. "Go check each other for ticks."

The tip of her tongue slipped out, wetting her lips. "We weren't in the woods. Or even any tall grass. In fact, we're in an urban environment. Not too many ticks there."

"But there _can_ be some." An urban environment that didn't have an awful lot of traffic in this area. "We could pretend we were and check anyway. I'm happy to do it. You know…in the name of good friendship. I promise to be thorough. I'll even do a double look to make sure."

"How about I take a rain check on that for when we've actually been out in the woods?"

"Seriously?"

A mischievous expression took root in her eyes. "Find me some woods and ask me again."

He reached for his phone. "Come on, GPS. Give daddy some nice woods."

She laughed. "I've never heard that one before. Tick check. Geez."

He looked up, checking the street names. "There's a park that way about four blocks down." Dean pointed to the left.

Jo shook her head and stepped close. "Later."

"Promise?"

She looked up at him. "Yes."

He couldn't think of a reply. Why couldn't he think of a reply? Dean stepped closer to her, sliding his phone in his pocket. Reaching out, he grasped her hips. Jo raised her hands, resting them on his chest. Her lips parted. He lowered his head towards her, intending on kissing her.

"There you are," came Gwen's voice from the corner behind him. "I've been looking for you. You not answering your phones now?"

Dean straightened, thinking very dark thoughts about strangling his cousin. "We were distracted."

"I can see that." Gwen approached, smirking ever so slightly.

Reaching in her jacket pocket, Jo took out her phone and looked at it. "Huh. How did it get on the airplane setting?"

"Uh-huh." Gwen's smirk stayed fixed on her lips. "Sam just got a call. Turns out both victims have disappeared from the morgue."

She filled them in as they started walking again and, as they turned the corner, another voice intruded on the conversation.

"Turn around slowly and give me all your valuables."

"Really?" Dean turned. "You've got to be freaking kidding me."

They were being mugged by a scrawny teenager? In broad daylight?

The teen slid a nervous glance around them, gesturing with the gun in his hand. "Shut up, man. Hand everything over. Wallet, jewelry, purses."

As he spoke, Dean assessed him. Not a formidable threat. Slim to the point of skinny and he didn't look to have much in the way of muscle. He was also handling that gun like he didn't know what to do with it. That was the only thing that might be a problem. Amateurs were dangerous because they _didn't_ know how to handle one.

"Does it look like any one of us are carry purses," Gwen asked, taking a slow step to one side. "I mean, seriously. Are you blind?"

On Dean's other side, Jo also took a slow step away, her gaze on the gun.

"The valuables, lady." The teen held out a hand.

Gwen snorted. "I don't think I like your tone."

"I don't care, bitch. Give me your damn money."

She raised her brows at that and took another step to one side.

"Don't move!" The thief began to breathe fast and hard. "Stop!" He kept looking from Jo to Gwen and back, the gun waving around. With a crack, it went off, and Dean stumbled back, pain blossoming in his forearm. He clapped a hand to the spot and said a few choice curse words. The gun dropped to the ground and Dean was treated to the sight of Gwen and Jo beating the crap out of the kid. He heard a snap when Gwen's fist connected to the guy's face and felt a sympathy pain in his groin at Jo's forceful kick. The kid fell to the ground, both hands on his crotch and blood trickling from his nose.

Crouching down, Dean ignored the pain in his arm and picked up the gun. The two women stepped back and he nudged the thief with the gun. "Dude, you should probably rethink your life of crime. You just got beat up by two girls. You're lucky I'm not seriously injured or they'd be killing you slowly right now."

"Damn straight," Jo said with a smile.

"Amen," Gwen drawled.

The thief rolled into a tighter ball and groaned. One hand moved up from his crotch to his face. "Bitches broke my nose…."

"We could break something else," Jo offered. "I'm game."

He crawled backwards. "You people are crazy." Pushing to his feet, he hobbled off, stumbling into an alley. There was a loud crash of metal and then silence.

Dean looked the gun over a little more carefully. "Hey, Gwen? Don't you have a birthday coming up soon?"

"Another couple weeks, yeah."

He held out the gun to her. "Happy birthday, cous."

"Aww, Dean. You shouldn't have." She took it. "It's pretty. Thanks."

"I shopped for hours to find that…." He trailed off and covered where the bullet had grazed his arm with a hand. "Damn, that hurts."

"Let's get back and get it cleaned up," Jo said, taking his good arm and gently tugging towards the motel.

When they walked in the door, and it was obvious Dean was injured, both Sam and Castiel stood. Their 'what happened' was almost in unison.

"I got a pretty new gun," Gwen told them, laying it on the table.

"So you shot Dean with it," Sam asked.

"No, the mugger shot Dean."

"The mugger?" Castiel sat back down, surprise in his eyes. "You were mugged? _You_?"

Jo set out the first aid kit and opened it, taking out the supplies she needed to patch him up. "We weren't mugged. It was an attempted mugging and I broke a nail, too."

Gwen went to stand behind Castiel, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Mine aren't long enough to break, but my knuckles might be bruised. I didn't think a nose would be that hard."

"What happened exactly?" Sam examined Dean's arm.

"Some idiot kid tried to mug us, got nervous, shot me, and then got beat up by Jo and Gwen."

"Ahh." Sam looked him over as he took the chair at the table that Sam had vacated. "So you just have a flesh wound?"

Jo bent over his arm.

"Just. Just? Sam, I'm maimed."

"It's not that bad," Jo said, gently cleaning the wound on his forearm. "It's not as bad as some of the cuts you've given yourself for various reasons. You were lucky. I think my heart stopped when that gun went off and you…." She let out a slow breath. "That single second before you started cursing a blue streak was about ten hours long, Dean."

Sam went to Gwen and gave her hands a once-over. "A little bruising on the knuckles, but I think you're fine. You broke the guy's nose?"

"Maimed," Dean insisted to Jo, dry swallowing the pills she'd set on the table for him.

"You probably won't even have a scar," she replied.

"Thanks to your tender care." She was right. The cut was nothing.

"Flirt," she accused with the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Tease," he tossed back at her.

Jo paused and looked at him. "When have I teased?"

"Constantly."

"I'm not teasing. This is the appetizer. I'm whetting your appetite."

"Mmmm…." Her cheeks had the slightest touch of pink on them. While he could think of a very crude remark he could make about appetites and eating, he instead asked, "And when do you plan on us getting to the main course, Ms. Harvelle?"

She shrugged a brow at him and placed a bandage on the cut.

He was suddenly aware that the conversation between heard Sam and Gwen had stopped and they were snickering.

Castiel however, snorted. "You're calling her Ms. Harvelle?"

Dean shot an annoyed glance his way. "It's flirtatious banter."

"Sure. If you say so." His skepticism showed in how he frowned and shook his head.

"What? You think you can do better?"

Cas shrugged. "Maybe."

"Prove it." He waited until Cas began to look smug and added, "but not with Jo or Gwen."

Uncertainty sparked in his eyes. "Who then?"

"I'll point her out when it's time. You do the banter the old fashioned way, too. No reading minds."

"That power hasn't come back in completely yet. It's unpredictable still."

"Good."

Jo stood, leaned close, and whispered in his ear. "Don't put money on this."

"Why not?"

"Because he figured out how to work those baby blues about two months ago."

"A couple months versus my entire life, Jo."

"Don't get cocky," she warned.

Dean pressed his lips near her ear so only she'd hear him. "You like me cocky."

Her breath as hot against his skin. "Why Mr. Winchester, are you being dirty?"

Sam cleared his throat. "If you're done having some flirtatious banter…. Dean we need to take a care of a few things. You and me."

"Sure." Getting up, he followed Sam out the door.

* * *

Sam could tell Dean was in a good mood despite his wound by the fact that he tossed Sam the keys to let him drive. He didn't drive them far, just far enough that Castiel couldn't read what they might be thinking and talking about. He put the Impala in park. "We need to talk about the case."

"Gwen said the bodies are gone and there are no leads left."

"It's a dead end. It looks like whatever was here is gone now."

"And we had to discuss this alone why?"

"Because I think we should stay here, pretend like we're still working it. Pretend like we have a lead or two."

"Explain."

Sam rested an elbow on the door and ran his hand across his jaw while he thought about how to say it. "I think it's too much for Castiel. I was talking with him while you were out. Dean, he's scared to death about what he's becoming. He's trying to hold on to humanity, but those changes are coming fast now. They're speeding up and he needs us all to be his friends. He needs us, not the job." Sam could relate to that feeling. He understood that fear Castiel was feeling. "He's feeling lost and alone -"

"Okay."

"Okay?"

He shrugged. "Sure. We can stay another week, see what happens with him and keep an eye on the news in case whatever was killing here starts up again."

"Good. Good." He looked at Dean. "So, how are you on the Djinn stuff? You haven't mentioned any of it recently. You still looking at that?"

Dean stretched one leg out. "I thought I'd ask Gabe a few questions if he wins the big battle. As much as he got around, he'd probably know about alphas and the Mother of All. Dragons even."

"If you can get him to tell the truth."

His head dipped in a nod. "True."

They sat in silence a moment, Sam trying to figure out how to approach the next topic. He finally decided to simply say it. "Jo looks pretty today," Sam ventured.

Dean looked at him, the tiniest bit of amusement in his eyes. He was starting to seem rather mellow and Sam wondered what Jo had given him. "What, are you reading off a list in your head? Job, Cas, Djinn, Jo?"

Sam laughed. He had sort of. "Something like that. With Jo, I think you should do more than flirt with her, that's for sure."

He raised a finger. "And I will. Soon."

"Don't wait too long. You two don't exactly have the best of luck in finding that right time."

"Another truth. Got anything else, Sam?"

"Nope."

"Well, I do. When was the last time _you_ got laid? Cas is getting some, I'm going to, and you're what? Still a monk? Tell me you got laid that year."

He thought about it, mouth opening. "Um…." It had been sometime before the Djinn, but how close to it? A couple weeks? A month?

Dean's snort was loud. "Dude, the fact that you have to think about it means it's been too long."

"Well, what about you then? You and Lisa -"

"About a month before the Djinn attack." There was a flicker of sadness in Dean's eyes, there and quickly gone and Sam vaguely remembered Lisa having told him she'd tried for a month to figure out how to break up with Dean.

"I've gotten laid," he insisted, because it was true. He'd met three women over that year, though only one had resulted in sex. Felicia and Kitty had been grateful damsels in distress in the space of ten weeks, but he'd had to leave town before doing anything more than kissing either of them. Vivian, however, was a hunter and he sort of hoped he'd run into her again sometime. They'd had a couple good nights before parting ways.

"Uh-huh. Sure you have." Dean said it like he didn't believe it.

"I did. Vivian. Her name was Vivian."

"Sure."

"She has dark hair, kind of exotic looks, definitely doesn't suffer fools gladly. She's a hunter."

"Of course she is." He nodded.

"Don't patronize me. Ask Gwen about her. Gwen hated her."

"You want me to ask Gwen about your imaginary hook-up?" He whistled. "Okay."

"She wasn't imaginary!"

Dean chuckled, his good mood returned after that mention of Lisa. "I believe you. I'll still ask Gwen about her, but I believe you."

Their quiet this time was more relaxed and almost felt like old times.

"So how do we want to pretend to work this now non-existent case," he asked.

"I've got a few ideas."

They were going to do some fake stakeouts, some fake research, and keep a close eye on Castiel and his development.

* * *

He'd been on stakeouts before, but this one was especially boring. Jo and Dean never let up on the playful talk and Castiel was bored. He'd been sitting in the backseat for hours now and had grown tired of eating the junk food they'd brought with them. He sent a text to Gwen.

'Any luck on your end?'

After five minutes, her reply was a simple, 'Nope.' That was it. Nothing else. Normally she'd send him long texts, yet now she didn't. If they weren't having any luck, she should be sending him paragraphs.

Dean muttered a curse. "Cas, duck down. Jo -"

Castiel slid down to lie on the seat as Jo moved over to Dean. It looked like the two were pulled together by magnets, their lips locking and Jo ending up on Dean's lap straddling him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of someone rapping on the window or yelling at them.

It didn't come.

He waited for either Jo or Dean to give the all-clear.

That didn't come either.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Finally, he opened his eyes and poked his head up to see out, craning his neck to see around Jo and Dean, who were doing more kissing than paying attention. He'd already suspected that this was busy work and not a real step in their case since they'd hit a dead end. The bodies were gone and there were no clues to give them any sort of direction. They weren't even sure what creature had killed the two. In fact, he was pretty certain the supposed leads they had were completely made up and fake. What he didn't know exactly, was why they'd made up leads.

He cleared his throat twice before Jo snaked a hand up, fumbled at his face, and shoved, While that probably meant 'go away' he wasn't inclined to. Instead, he tapped Dean on the shoulder until the two pulled apart.

"What," Dean barked out.

Cas pointed at the building. "I believe our 'potential victim' is tucked in for the night." He made air quotes around the words 'potential victim'.

Jo slid off Dean's lap and back into the passenger seat. "We had to make sure."

He glanced down at his watch. "For fifteen minutes?"

"You suck," she told him.

"Was there a point to this outting, Dean?"

Dean started the Impala. "Sure."

"What was it?"

"To teach you how to do a stakeout."

"Oh." He crossed his arms on the seat. "So, I watch for awhile, then start making out with the woman I've brought with me, completely ignoring whoever I'm observing? Do I have that right?" Before Dean could answer, he sat back. "This case is done. There are no clues. We need to move on to something else."

"We have leads," Dean protested.

"We have nothing. I'm not stupid, you know. I can look at the evidence for myself and come to conclusions. Our case is over and all of you are stalling on finding something else. Since it's me you're all attempting to dupe, I have to conclude it's because of me. I'm right, aren't I?"

Jo and Dean appeared to hold an entire conversation with twitched brows, rolls of their eyes, pursed lips, and tilts of their heads.

"Just…. Let's go back to the motel. Gwen and I will go see a movie or something. Unless she's already out seeing a movie with Sam."

Jo looked away.

"Uh-huh." He could read that clear enough. "That's why she's not texting more than one word back at a time."

"We're taking a vacation," Dean told him, pulling onto the street and driving back towards the motel.

"And lying to me."

"We're all worried about you," Jo said, turning around in the seat to look at him. "We want to take it easy for a week or so -"

"Until the new moon," he translated.

"Gabriel will be back and somehow I don't think we want to be in the middle of a job when he does." Dean pulled into the motel parking lot and parked in front of their block of rooms.

Castiel had to agree. This coming fight was going to suck them all in one way or another.


End file.
